What's Wrong with a Little Destruction?
by ajremix
Summary: IDW 'verse. Various drabbles for the most badass strike force the Autobots have to offer: The Wreckers.
1. Naughty Wreckers

What's Wrong with a Little Destruction?  
28 Wreckers

Taken from the 28Character meme that's been popping up every now and again. Done because, well, the Wreckers are awesome in any continuity.

Note: Simon Furman said he wasn't going to introduce femmes into the IDW 'verse until he had a way to explain their existence. Excuse me while I throw that note out the window.

* * *

1. Naughty Wreckers 

_"(Abby) was designed to be the troublemaker and stir things up. She wasn't evil, she was naughty."  
-Donna Mills_

The first message Arcee received was a rather eloquent and inspiring poem. She was, for lack of a more effective term, impressed. The second message was a sweet (if not slightly longwinded) letter. The third one was less welcomed than the previous two though it may have had something to do with a calendar pin-up with her face maniped to the body that came attached to it. By the fifth she was getting annoyed. By the twelfth, she started getting mad.

And by the time she read the thirty-first (which had, in some very ineloquent and un-sweet terminology, requested a hook-up) she finally decided to stop ignoring the problem and dealing with it.

In short, she created a very unamused and scathing letter.

Within a klik of receiving the letter, Springer stomped out to the bridge of the Xantium, glared blackly and pointed at each of the other Wreckers in turn. "I will kill you all." He promptly turned and stomped right back out in attempts to salvage the situation.

The door whooshed closed and a beat passed. Then another.

Then everyone cracked the hell up.


	2. Happy Wreckers

What's Wrong with a Little Destruction?  
28 Wreckers

Taken from the 28Character meme that's been popping up every now and again. Done because, well, the Wreckers are awesome in any continuity.

Note: As any military member knows, boredom is a bad, bad thing to allow to happen.

* * *

2. Happy Wreckers

_"You'll find boredom where there is the absence of a good idea."  
-Earl Nightingale_

The Wreckers were happiest- as everyone knew –in the battlefield. Frankly, they scared the willies out of most of the Autobots. And the Decepticons, well… the only thing they feared more than dealing with Wreckers was explaining to Megatron why they turned tail. It had, in fact, gotten to the point where smarter detachments would wait until the Wreckers were engaged elsewhere before they seriously kicked off Siege Mode.

But the fact of the matter was that they loved to fight. They lived for fighting. They were, as previously stated, happiest when fighting.

And though fighting equaled happy, happy didn't necessarily equate fighting though it did- to put it in general terms –mean someone was causing trouble for someone else. Didn't really matter for who; making life difficult for Decepticons, keeping other Autobots on their toes or just messing around with each other. Anything that wrecked a little havoc always got their fuel pumps going.

"Sooo," Topspin said slowly, still cycling out of recharge (morning 'bot he was not), "you are covered in inflatable plastic creatures because…?"

Broadside just shrugged his massive shoulders. "No reason."

"And you are on the floor why?"

Another shrug. "No reason."

Topspin just went 'huh' and stood there for a moment. And then felt something against his foot. And then he bent down to get a better look.

"…" He said. "I see. Hi, Scoop."

The hand protruding from under Broadside's back flopped a little in possibly a wave or a please-save-me kinda way. Topspin wasn't sure of which.

"So," he paused a moment to sip at his morning energon, "was it worth it?"

A snort and giggle came up from under Broadside's vents followed by a muffled 'can't breathe'.


	3. Silly Wreckers

What's Wrong with a Little Destruction?  
28 Wreckers

Taken from the 28Character meme that's been popping up every now and again. Done because, well, the Wreckers are awesome in any continuity.

Note: Set during Spotlight: Optimus Prime- meaning post-Stormbringer and Spotlight: Kup with a reference to Spotlight: Shockwave.

* * *

3. Silly Wreckers 

_"The word aerobics comes from two Greek words: aero, meaning "ability to," and bics, meaning "withstand tremendous boredom"  
-Dave Barry_

"-just minimal reactions, but it's something. Of course there's no telling how sane he'll be if he actually wakes up at all." Springer rubbed at the bridge of his nose, right under where it met his helmet and kept his optics on the datapad in front of him. Not out of any need to read off it but just to keep from having to look at Prowl's 'I told you so' expression. Not that he'd actually say it. Or even really look it. But Springer knew that's what the tactician was thinking. Fragging bastard.

Springer had called the Earth detachment to update Optimus Prime on Kup's status. Instead their leader was 'indisposed' (his tailfin) and Prowl had taken the communiqué in his stead. "Right now, though, it's difficult to tell if it's a random firing in his processor or if Kup is actually going to regain consciousness."

"Even that is better than nothing, I suppose." Came the cool drawl, slightly muffled through the distance of space.

"Yeah, whatever." He tossed the datapad and slumped back in his seat, optics shuttered. He was too exhausted to care.

"Springer." The level of detachment dwindled in the tone and for a moment Prowl almost sounded like a 'bot with a fragging spark. One blue optic glowed slightly as it regarded the other on the communications screen. "Pushing yourself too hard to properly function won't help anyone."

"Nothing a little recharging won't cure." He muttered in return, groping for the energon on his desk. He'd been flying around like a mad 'bot after the entire 'Return of Thunderwing' incident. After settling that (getting patched up from it) the Wreckers were supposed to make their way back to Varas Centralus to salvage what they could of the situation. And then Springer got the call from Preceptor that they found Kup and left to deal with _that_, then ran back to his team in time to help extract Bluestreak's detachment and nearly blew a gasket when he found out just how FUBAR that experience ended up being (through no one person's fault, however fortunate or not that was). And now they were being shuttled off to yet another hot spot and not for the first time Springer wondered just where the pit the fragging Dynobots went off to. Not for the first time he seriously considered hiring Nightbeat to find out. Damn slagheads.

"Springer-"

"You're the last 'bot to talk to _me_ about over working." He said shortly. He brought the energon container in closer and wondered why he just didn't cut Prowl off. "Look, if there's any other cha-ARCKPTHH!"

Springer spluttered, sitting dumbly with exploded energon dripping all over him. Prowl's visage on the screen looked on with wide optics. From behind the door leading to the hall was an eruption of cackles and feet making fast tracks down the hall.

"SANDSTORM! WHIRL!" The Wreckers leader stuck his head out, still coated in the faintly glowing liquid (he was lucky it was just the container and not the actual energon that exploded). "I'LL DISMANTLE YOU BOTH WITH A RUSTY HAND DRILL!"

Stalking back inside the office- and now no longer tired –he glared at Prowl. "Don't speak." He growled.

Instead, Prowl merely lifted his head in that way Springer knew was to keep him from noticing the twitch of his lips. "I'll inform Prime on Kup's status. If there's nothing else…?" There was just the tiniest tremor in the doorwings.

"Slag off." On that pleasant note, he cut the line of communication and then stalked off to kick him some aft.


	4. Angsty Wreckers

What's Wrong with a Little Destruction?  
28 Wreckers

Taken from the 28Character meme that's been popping up every now and again. Done because, well, the Wreckers are awesome in any continuity.

Note: 'Angst' is the German word for fear or anxiety... it is the fear of possible suffering and a behavior situated from uncertainty and strain which is caused by pain. loss and death. (_wiki_)

* * *

4. Angsty Wreckers 

_"I refuse to make a decision that somebody else can make. The first rule of leadership is to save yourself for the big decision. Don't allow your mind to become cluttered."  
-Richard Nixon_

This battle _was_ going fairly well. Until a Gestalt team no one had reported the presence of entered the fray in their insanely huge, combined-form glory. Which really wasn't all that bad considering how many other times the Wreckers had to deal with it.

Except that this was Abominus, who landed in the middle of their defensive perimeter and started slagging the lot of them before they could even get over the impact tremors.

It was nothing but mass confusion, then. Orders were shouted loud and hoarse and no one could make sense of them, Decepticons picked off whoever they could, tucked safely out of Abominus's range. Autobots were falling all around them- down, back, unable and unwilling to fight and still the Wreckers shot on because the only thing that went on in any of their minds was _fight fight shoot fight kill it, for Primus' sake go DOWN_

Springer's entire body rocked against the recoil. Roadbuster was down and the much larger 'bot's cannon rifle was almost too heavy, too powerful for Springer's arms that were trembling from the pain of all that power being braced on his hip component and a gash that should've left his hand immobile. Except it clutch desperately against the handguard and nothing short of blowing him to pieces would've taken that monster of a rifle from him.

He tried scanning for the others, unwilling to move, unwilling to leave Roadbuster unprotected against the aptly name abomination of a Transformer. Twin Twist was half crushed in the ground, one of Whirl's rotors smashed and he spun wildly before crashing in a cacophony of dirt and noise. Sandstorm had been hit by a missile early on and Topspin had dragged him off to patch the triplechanger up. Abominus had landed on top of them and Springer didn't know if either of them was alive and he roared and fired until his legs quaked and was having trouble standing upright.

Scoop- slag, he lost track of the little guy so long ago and the only sign of Broadside was the artillery gun pounding an uneven staccato off to his side. Or not, it was too hard to filter all the noise going on and the sky was filled with so much smoke and dirt he couldn't even see the rounds he was blasting into Abominus let alone who else was.

From out of the haze, giant yellow optics gazed down on him. Springer cursed something at him and didn't move. Not when Abominus leered with a hungry roar, not when a hand large then him reached down, not went something stepped over his head and crashed the Decepticon backwards.

Someone was at Springer's side, pulling at his hands and it was only then that he realized the clicking noise he'd been hearing was because Roadbuster's cannon was out of ammo (how long was he standing there, not shooting a damned thing?). Words were in his audio, but he couldn't understand them- could only make out 'Defensor' and 'danger' and 'leave'.

"No." He shook. All over he shook, but he still stood standing in the devastation of the battlefield around him. "The others- get the others outta here." He shook but he wouldn't fall. Not until he knew the other Wreckers were safe.

It was a simple thing- the trust that kept the lot of them together. He trusted them to do their duty, to follow orders when needed, to make their own choices when they had to- to survive and adapt and fight and do whatever needed to be done to complete their objective. And in return they trusted him to put them on a planet that needed their firepower and keep them alive long enough to do their duty. And if they didn't survive, they trusted him to put a up a damn good fight to retrieve their bodies. That meant Springer would be the last to fall- be it to the enemy or the care of his own allies.

Above them, around them, Defensor grappled with Abominus until an EMP barrage from jets overloaded them, forcibly detaching the Terrorcons. Rattled, in pain and suddenly finding themselves overwhelmed they retreated and Defensor put up a protective force field as the Wreckers were moved from the hot zone. Springer watched the activity in a detached kind of way, swaying heavily on his feet and it wasn't until the last one was loaded onto an EMT that he finally collapsed.


	5. On Vacation Wreckers

What's Wrong with a Little Destruction?  
28 Wreckers

Taken from the 28Character meme that's been popping up every now and again. Done because, well, the Wreckers are awesome in any continuity.

Note: How awesome would it be to have a job where you never wanted to take a break?

* * *

5. On-Vacation Wreckers 

_"It is not more vacation we need - it is more vocation."  
-Eleanor Roosevelt_

They deliberately waited patiently. The kind of waiting where they _deliberately_ didn't move, _deliberately_ made no expression, _deliberately_ just stood and waited and still managed to give off 'would ya hurry it up' vibes. It was the kind of patient waiting the Wreckers excelled at.

"Yeah." Springer said at length. "This isn't working. Wreckers, pack it up."

With much more enthusiasm than when they came, the others complied, tossing gear back into the Xantium and booking it for the nearest hot spot. Prime wanted to give the Wreckers time to relax. Looked like Springer was going to have try (yet again) to explain nothing relaxed them like a heavy battle.

* * *

VAwitch: I adore the Wreckers since I first found out about them and really any group like them. It's the military in me really shining through D. And as much potential as it has, until she's put in the Wreckers in canon, she won't be in here, either (i don't know if she'll be mentioned in any other chapters, either). I just have a little soft-spot for Springer/Arcee.

Okami-chan: One thing I love about lightly touched-on characters is it opens them up for interpretation. btw, I feel I have to mention that your Star-Crossed is a bit of a guilty pleasure of mine. The pairing is an intriguing one for me and I'm tickled that anyone has done anything for them period XD


	6. Horny Wreckers

What's Wrong with a Little Destruction?  
28 Wreckers

Taken from the 28Character meme that's been popping up every now and again. Done because, well, the Wreckers are awesome in any continuity.

Note: Yes. Size really _does_ matter.

* * *

6. Horny Wreckers

_"See, the problem is that God gives men a brain and a penis, and only enough blood to run one at a time."  
-Robin Williams quotes_

Transformers- being a mechanical race and incapable of procreating –were not sexual in the same way organic beings were. The need for physical pleasure (pressing against sensitive seams, a stroke of rigid metal against circuits that shocked at the touch) was not something that pressed at their minds- least of all when one had a war to think of.

That wasn't to say they were incapable of physical attraction. Oh no- they could see the beauty in objects and beings, they could appreciate another's intelligence and compassion and after existing for as long as they have, their race as a whole had come to appreciate the emotional and psychological connection of another.

Or just a random night getting over-energized in some seedy bar and find some other 'bot willing to give them that open-circuit voltage that left them elated, weak and thoroughly relaxed.

Xantium was docked at a local station for some repairs and Springer had given them a few days leave ("Just watch what you catch," he'd always say). All of them- save Whirl who got ship duty for switching Twin Twist's drill lubricant with paint –had gone off, gotten themselves plastered and came back with company for the night.

Scoop yawned largely, standing at the loading dock and waving farewell to a slender, curvy thing that drove him wild for the last several hours. He smiled blissfully and turned to head back to his quarters when he nearly got stepped on. Wide-opticed, Scoop scuttled backwards until he was pressed up against the bulkhead.

That… was a huge mamajama. Almost as big as- oh hey, Broadside.

He boggled, watching the two giant 'bots say their good-byes. Afterwards, his fellow Wrecker turned to him with a questioning expression (after how long they've worked together, one learned to read a facemask and visor). Scoop looked at Broadside, then where the other oversized 'bot had left, then back again.

"…oh." He finally said. "That's why you didn't go for any of the ones I was pointin' out to ya."

Blandly the other one said, "I don't think Springer would like me accidentally crushing anyone."


	7. Transforming Wreckers

What's Wrong with a Little Destruction?  
28 Wreckers

Taken from the 28Character meme that's been popping up every now and again. Done because, well, the Wreckers are awesome in any continuity.

Note: It would be the coolest Halloween costume. _Ever_.

* * *

7. Transforming Wreckers

_"We manics do outrageous things and it is part of our colorful nature."  
-Patty Duke_

Laughter was never a rare thing on Xantium. When someone courts death as vehemently as the Wreckers, there's a lot to laugh about. 'Oh man, check out the size of this bit mark Rampage gave me!', 'Did you see Twin Twist getting dragged around by the foot? That was_ priceless_!', 'Did you really throw your rifle at the Decepticons?', 'Shut up- I was outta ammo!'. They had to laugh because it was absurd that they were still alive. And after the kind of scrapes they got into, surviving was such a shock that laughing at it was the only way to keep from going mad.

Which was why it was hardly surprising to hear laughter ricocheting down the halls and in the common area just about every member of the crew had collapsed on the nearest stable structure, laughing until they were wheezing, pounding their knees, the tables, each other.

All except for Sandstorm who was in the middle of it all, struggling and cursing and yelling in frustration.

"HAHAHAHA- Can't… can't breathe!"

"Primus- someone get a capture of this!"

"Frag you, slagging bucket-humping slag-suckers! RRRRRRRRGH!"

"WAHA-HAHAHAHA!"

The door opened and Springer came to a halt, for a moment uncertain if they were under attack from some strange alien beast. "….Sandstorm?" He peered cautiously at the orange mess.

"Springer! Get 'em to fix me!"

Finally able to wrap his mind around the fact that- yes, this was his fellow triplechanger –he asked everyone else in a voice that only slightly quivered, "How much of this do I want to know?" The laughter subsided and someone tried to get a hold of himself enough to explain the situation. But started snickering and that got everyone going _again_.

Sandstorm (glaring as best he could though no one could tell) bit out, "Topspin was _supposed_ to clear out some grit from my transformation cogs and I ended up turning into this… useless monstrosity!"

Springer looked over Sandstorm- an impossible mesh of all three forms, mangled together and stuck in a limbo of 'what the slagging hell is it' –to their resident medic. The edges of Springer's lips twitched almost uncontrollably. "Well?"

Topspin's grin was so wide the edges disappeared under his visor. "Was a good idea at the time."


	8. Excited Wreckers

What's Wrong with a Little Destruction?  
28 Wreckers

Taken from the 28Character meme that's been popping up every now and again. Done because, well, the Wreckers are awesome in any continuity.

Note: Audditch. Also know to Earthlings as Australian Indoor-Rules Quidditch (everything(dot)com/index.pl?nodeid1510342) introduced and popularized by Machall (machall(dot)com/view.php?date2002-06-15) and played by Marines during blackouts.

* * *

8. Excited Wreckers 

_"That's the worst idea I've ever heard and I want to play."  
-Matt Boyd, Machall_

"Spin! SpinSpinSpinSpinSpin!" Twin Twist burst into the bridge, skidding to a stop next to his fellow jumpstarter with the most excited look on his face anyone had ever seen. "How much do ya love me, buddy?"

Topspin gave him a dubious look, optic ridge raised. "I dunno, how much _should_ I love you?"

Two datachips flashed before his face. "Enough to go to the championship match with me?"

Topspin's jaw dropped. Then he grabbed Twin Twist's wrists in both his own and _starred_. Then he broke into a wide, open-mouthed smile. "Sweet Primus you _got 'em_? How?? They've been sold out for over a stellar cycle!"

"I have my sources."

"Would they happen to have a name," Broadside commented from the navigation console, "that starts with an 'S' and ends in a 'windle'?"

The driller put a hand to his chestplate and looked aghast. "I'm hurt! How could you accuse me of such a thing?"

"That would be a yes, then."

Springer tapped a finger against his armrest, though his expression was amused. "I'm not going to be expecting another call from Ultra Magnus, am I?"

"Aw, c'mon Chief! They're just tickets!"

"This time."

"That doesn't sound like 'never bringing it up again' to me, Side."

Staving off any potential argument, Springer leaned forward in his seat and beckoned the two jumpstarters toward him. "Lemme see these tickets." Obediently Twin Twists handed them over, both Wreckers looking like they were about to start bouncing on their toes. "Audditch Championship Games?" He read the venue aloud. Even with all the duties they had to deal with, Twin Twist and Topspin still managed to find the time to keep on top of their favorite galactic sport. He raised an optic ridge and gave them a measured look. "You are aware that we're still in the middle of a war, correct?"

Their expression fell into a confused horror. "B-But," Topspin spluttered, "we've been wanting to go to a championship game since we were fledglings!"

"Yeah! And our team is in it this year!"

A heavy finger tapped against the edge of the datachips. "We have to be ready to deploy at a moment's notice. You both know that."

Twin Twist's mouth clicked shut. "You can't do this!"

The blue-optic gaze went flat. "I can't?" It was more of a challenge than a question. One that had Twin Twist backtracking.

"I mean- yeah okay, you _can_, but that ain't right!"

With a sigh, Springer stood up and placed a hand on both of their shoulders. "Twin Twist, Topspin. The both of you really need to learn how to take a joke." He gave their cheeks a little smack and then turned to stroll off the bridge.

The two blue and whites were stupefied and Broadside quietly snickered at his station. "That," Twin Twist said at last, "was not cool." Then they broke out of their daze as they realize, "Hey! Get back here with our tickets!"


	9. Book Reading Wreckers

What's Wrong with a Little Destruction?  
28 Wreckers

Taken from the 28Character meme that's been popping up every now and again. Done because, well, the Wreckers are awesome in any continuity.

Note: Quotes are from the poem Beowulf and translated by Seamus Heany. And, yes, Technobot Lightspeed is allergic to energon and most other fuels. According to the Marvel continuity lead sulfide (or galena) is an anti-allergen medicine. There are two kinds of lead sulfide: lead (II) sulfide (galena) which has one lead and one sulfide atom (PbS) and lead (IV) sulfide which has one lead and two sulfide atoms (PbS2). As I fail at chemistry, I'm doing some voodoo guessing and saying they don't work the same as medication.

* * *

9. Book-Reading Wreckers 

_"Creativity is a natural extension of our enthusiasm."  
-Earl Nightingale  
_

Springer and Roadbuster were seated at one of the tables in the mess hall, going over some new battle tactics. Nearby, buffing out every flat surface in the room, Sandstorm was speaking loudly as they discussed potential weaknesses.

"I like the basis of the formation," Springer said as he tapped the datapad, "but it'll leave both me and Whirl unprotected on our flanks. Even if Broadside and Sandstorm timed their passes perfectly- and you know how perfectly things go in battle –that leaves a lot of dead time for someone to fire in from the rear."

"And now the youth / was to enter the line of battle with his lord/ his first time to be tested as a fighter." Sandstorm groused out, fighting a particularly stubborn scuff on a table. "His spirit did not break and the ancestral blade / would keep its edge, as the dragon discovered / as soon as they came together in the combat."

Roadbuster's large green fingers tapped out a command, changing up the movement on the screen. "What if the two of you went into a Movement Four hover?"

"Hmm… if we did that, they'd have to come in at an oblique…" Springer rubbed at his chin thoughtfully. "Close maneuvers, but it should work."

"Sad at heart, addressing his companions," Sandstorm continued over their conversation, "Wiglaf spoke wise and fluent words/ 'I remember that time when mead was flowing/ how we pledged loyalty to our lord in the hall/ promised our ring-giver we would be worth our price'."

"We could go straight into a Delta Pattern or do a Switch Play from this point," Springer paused the simulated movement, "Broadside and Sandy would have to be quick on the turnaround, though. A counter attack at that angle and distance could be devastating."

"I hate it when you call me that." Sandstorm called out, as if to remind that- yes, despite the fact he was monologuing to himself –he was still in the room.

"That's not how the line goes, Sandy." Springer returned, not turning from the discussion at hand.

He growled, but held back any retort. "'-we would be worth our price/ make good the gift of the war-gear/ those swords and helmets, as and when / his need required it. / He picked us out / from the army deliberately, honored us and judged us / fit for this action, made me these lavish gifts-'"

"Ah, but you see here? At this point it would open you and Whirl to do a banking pass which would set up-"

"A Diving Run." A malicious smirk spread over the triplechanger's face. "Have I told you how much I love that wicked cranial unit of yours?"

Beneath the faceplate, Roadbuster grinned. "I get that impression every now and again."

"'-and all because he considered us the best / of his arms-bearing thanes. And now, although / he wanted this challenge to be one he'd face / by himself alone- the shepherd of our land/ a man unequalled in the quest for glory / now the day has come when he requires sound men-'"

"The line is 'now the day has come / when this lord we serve needs sound men'."

Sandstorm threw down the hand buffer. "Why in the primal source am I reciting this? You know the slagging poem like it's a mission file!"

Springer finally turned in his seat to regard the orange triplechanger. "You're doing it as punishment and it's a very good poem. You could do with some culture in your life."

"You're already making me buff out every microbe of surface in the mess hall- why am I being punished on top of _that_?"

"Oh well, unless you want me to go back and tell Jetfire you were the one that switched Lightspeed's PbS allergy medication with PbS2…"

Sandstorm groaned. "Aw, c'mon! How was I supposed to know he was allergic to energon?"

Springer and Roadbuster gave him a _look_.

"Okay, I already knew- but how was I supposed to know he'd react that _badly_?" The looks didn't dissipate and Sandstorm's shoulders sagged in defeat. "…'now the day has come / when this lord we serve needs sound men / to give him their support…'"

* * *

Zosocrowe - Haha, as I update four prompts at a time, you only missed it the first time around XD But yeeeees! More love for the Wreckers! 


	10. Dancing Wreckers

What's Wrong with a Little Destruction?  
28 Wreckers

Taken from the 28Character meme that's been popping up every now and again. Done because, well, the Wreckers are awesome in any continuity.

Note: btw, I have no idea how to dance, let alone how this would look.

* * *

10. Dancing Wreckers

_"Every new idea looks crazy at first."  
-Robert Olson  
_

"1-2-3, 1-2-3- man, can you believe Roadbuster didn't think this would work?"

Sandstorm turned and shot another round at the trailing Decepticons. "Roadbuster? _I_ can't believe this is working!" The two of them shifted, turned and fired again. "Careful, Whirl- you're speeding up the tempo again."

The white Wrecker made a rude sound that was lost under the rattle of his guns. "What are you talking about? My tempo is fine- that's why _I'm_ leading. Whisk, right-turn step 2-3."

Sandstorm followed the order, ground 'bot twisting and firing all the while moving backwards. Hovering almost directly over him, covering Sandstorm's rear, the chopper continued to count off to three. The way they moved boggled any of the Decepticons trying to shoot them down and what got them even more riled was that _damned counting_.

"-2-3- hey, you think we're far enough in?"

"Dunno. Give it a few more-" suddenly a great war cry cut every Decepticon vocalizer silent and Wreckers started pouring down from the surrounding hills, laying to waste anything that wasn't one of them. "Never mind- Thank you for attending this battle's entertainment," Sandstorm called out loudly, "which we like to call 'Waltz of You Gonna Die'!"


	11. Jealous Wreckers

What's Wrong with a Little Destruction?  
28 Wreckers

Taken from the 28Character meme that's been popping up every now and again. Done because, well, the Wreckers are awesome in any continuity.

Note: Happens right before the Dynobots' run-in with Shockwave mentioned in Spotlight: Shockwave.

* * *

11. Jealous Wreckers

_"Envy can be a positive motivator. Let it inspire you to work harder for what you want."  
-Robert Bringle_

"The _DYNOBOTS_??"

Springer, despite not liking it any better than the rest of his team, hid his disappointment every bit like they weren't. "Yes."

"But… aw, _c'mon_!" Twin Twist- as he tended to when unacceptable orders came down from on high –was acting as the spokes-complainer for the rest of the team. "They don't have the right kinda finesse for that mission!"

"Prime's made his call," and Springer already tried to change his mind, "and he's already got us assigned for another mission."

"Yeah. Playing mail courier." A loud, abrasive voice with a condescending tone that could only fit one group of 'bots said. As one the Wreckers turned narrowed, unamused optics on the Dynobots. "You shouldn't have to worry too much about it, though," Swoop continued with an overjoyed grin on his face, "they probably packed it in lots of fluff for you."

Twin Twist turned back to Springer. "Seriously. Sending those clod-footed hotheads is just going to be setting of an explosion they'll be able to see all the way at _Iacon_."

"Unless that's Prime's plan." Topspin crossed his arms, flashing a dangerous smile at the Dynobots. "Have them go in presumably after the energon cache but in actuality they're supposed to use it to blow up the Decepticon outpost."

"They probably wouldn't even be able to pull _that_ off." Roadbuster muttered.

It wasn't that the two teams didn't like each other. Oh no- they held a vast amount of respect for one another. They just fought over the riskiest, most dangerous missions available in some 'alpha team' competition. If Transformers had a term for 'testosterone flood' its definition would be 'Having the Dynobots and the Wreckers in the same room'.

"Oh, what's that I hear?" Asked the flier with a hand up to his audio. "Do I hear the lingering bitterness of someone that needed their aft pulled out from Polyhex?" The Wreckers simmered, the Dynobots snickered.

"Swoop," a deep voice boomed over them, "don't laugh at weaklings. Makes them feel inadequate." With the broad frame of Grimlock now behind them, the Dynobot's ruthless smiles grew that much more.

"_Weaklings_?" Scoop- average size by normal Autobot standards, small in regards to both present groups –marched up to Grimlock and stood defiantly- an impressive height about somewhere just above monstrous commander's waist. "Size means nothing when your cranial unit is so underused it's been on powersaver mode for twenty vorns!"

Suddenly a very large, very unhappy snarling visage of Slag filled Scoop's optics. "Are you calling us _dumb_, spare parts?" Slag, on top of being violently short-tempered, was also the Dynobots' science 'bot and didn't take kindly to insults on his intelligence.

Scoop- in pure Wreckers fashion –didn't back down in the face of someone that could flatten him with a palm. "You can process speech!" He exclaimed in mock surprise. "I guess I'm gonna have to owe Smokescreen a case of energon for getting that one over me."

"Be lucky you're so tiny, scraplet." The words were so venomous Scoop could almost feel the heat off them like Slag was firing off his flamethrower. "You're not even worth reassembling into a bore brush."

A large hand clamped down on Scoop's shoulder components and pushed him back slightly, replacing the smaller Wrecker with something larger, quieter and more imposing. Broadside towered over even Sludge and though size didn't intimidate the Dynobots there was something to be said about a 'bot that knew how to fill a room. And damn but Broadside could fill a room. Slag craned his head back and growled low in the back of his vocalizer and Broadside's optic visor narrowed. Behind Snarl the other Dynobots' joined the primal growling and _loomed_ over the smaller Wreckers team. But they weren't the only ones not intimidated by size and the Wreckers spread shoulder to shoulder and squared their jaws, daring the other four to make any kind of move.

"Enough with the posturing." Springer snapped dryly. Then he turned to Grimlock with a dark, amused expression. "Alright then, Big Bot- Think your mouth component's big enough to stuff a wager in there?"

An optic ridge raised, the band of red optic visor studying Springer curiously. "Got something in mind?"

"Your little energon _cake walk_," he stressed, just to hear the four growls being directed his way, "is a lot closer than our pick up." And about twice as heavily guarded, but that was beside the point. "First group to return with their cargo gets their pick of the next high-risk missions. And picks the next mission the losers go on."

A wager _and_ a competition? Both teams were fairly buzzing with anticipation. Grimlock's optics thinned in a way that Springer knew meant he was smiling long and cold and hungry. "Small Fly, you've just earned yourself an embarrassment." He held out a massive dark hand that Springer took to seal the bet. "We'll be back before you even reach your little assignment."

"Says the guy that's going to be leading a patrol duty for the next stellar cycle." With a motion, Springer had his Wreckers moving down the hall and to their ship. "See you when you get back."


	12. Turned On Wreckers

What's Wrong with a Little Destruction?  
28 Wreckers

Taken from the 28Character meme that's been popping up every now and again. Done because, well, the Wreckers are awesome in any continuity.

Note: Panclastites and methyl nitrate are actual liquid explosives that are no longer or rarely used because they're so volatile and difficult to store.

* * *

12. Turned-On Wreckers 

_"Of all the animals, the boy is the most unmanageable."  
-Plato_

Usually when the Wreckers got their supplies they'd just go to a loading dock and make the exchange. But when Smokescreen asks to meet them in a dead zone on an artificial asteroid, it only meant one thing: he had a new toy for them to play with.

But first they had to go through the usual routine of running through the inventory. "-20 crates incendiary grenades, 18 crates frag grenades, five crates flashbangs," Smokescreen loved being the Wreckers' go-to guy. He loved wondering just what they were going to use all the items he ordered for them. "10 crates smoke grenades yellow, 10 red, 10 green. 2 crates proximity mines-"

"Hang on," Springer interjected as Broadside went to take a look at the mines, "I didn't order those."

The red and blue mech shrugged. "The fence decided to throw them in as a freebie for your patronage."

"This one is half empty." Broadside said mildly. Springer raised an optic ridge at Smokescreen.

"You're not the only ones that could use them." Came the bland reply.

"Fine." The green triplechanger pointed at the list. "Next?"

The two continued their walk through the cargo, the rest of the Wreckers following behind and occasionally going off to check some of the merchandise. "Five barrels liquid dinitrogen tetroxide, five barrels carbon disulfide." When mixed together they formed a very volatile and painful liquid explosive known as panclastites, a.k.a. 'party mixer', 'high-grade shooter' or 'remember when Whirl blew off his optic ridge'.

"I got the laser mounts but the grenade launcher attachments for your rifles are hard to get right now. I only managed to land two but-," Smokescreen added quickly, though Springer already knew he'd have some compensation, "I get the targeting upgrades for your field artillery you've had your optics on."

Springer was mildly impressed. "All five?"

"All five plus three in case of damage or you decide to purchase more." That's why Smokescreen was so good at this- a little on the expensive side but he knew just what his clients wanted. "Now the reason I had you all come down here," he said as he lead the group to two isolated crates draped with tarps. "Gentlebots," he swept the tarps aside with dramatic flourish, "these are IEO-28s, also called Napalm Rain." He drew one component from each crate as the Wreckers huddled around. "This is the nose, a high-impact dome filled with methyl nitrate specially engineered to cling to any object it comes in contact with. Can't be rubbed or washed off." A gleeful, battle-hungry interest gleamed in every optic around him and Smokescreen held up the other part. "The blast cap is housed here and it'll ignite on impact. It handles like any RPG, just screw the two together, load up, sight in and roast some chassis. 'Course the Tyrest Accord states you can't use it in any area capable of sustaining any kind of life, but on a black rock like this…" with a flick of deft hands, Smokescreen handed the completed round to Roadbuster, "be my guest."

Optics lighting up with fledgling delight, Roadbuster took the round and headed out to a clearer area. At his elbows, Whirl and Twin Twist were practically bouncing as they walked, anxious to see what sort of damage this thing could cause. At once three different fingers pointed out the same target to Roadbuster. "There! Aim for the mangled pulse cannon!"

"Alright, I got it." Roadbuster knelt, loaded the round and sighted in. As the thing shot off into the distance, everyone held their breath. Metaphorically. Which would've been terrible if they were required to breathe to live because the resulting explosion would've taken it away.

"Primus."

"Was that the sound of _your_ engine turning over or mine?"

"I think I just popped a sparkplug."

Even Roadbuster was floored at the crackling gray-blue flames. "I want to do that again."

Proudly Smokescreen said, "The velocity of detonation is over 12,875 hics per nano-klik. The heat can be felt even with heat and fire resistant armor, but they'd be ripped apart by that kind of force anyway."

Six sets of optics turned on Springer. "We _have_ to get these!"

"Please?"

"Please please?"

"For the love of the primal source- please?"

"We'll get on our knees and beg."

"You know we'll do it."

Enjoying the show, Smokescreen felt the need to add, "If you don't take them, I'll have to try to pawn them off to the Dynobots and you know as well as I do they're all about brute strength over firepower. Prime and Magnus will have my skidplate if they found out I was handling these at all."

"PLEEEEAAASE?"

Springer waved away the mass bumble-puppy expressions. "Alright, alright!" Not like he was going to say no to begin with. Except now that he knew just how badly the Wreckers wanted it Springer could practically see Smokescreen mentally calculating how high he could jack the price. "Get the rest of the cargo inside while I finalize the purchase." But he couldn't help grinning at the loud 'WHOO!' that got. He glanced at the still burning mess, bits of the cannon puddling on the ground. He couldn't keep his own engine from purring at the sight. That baby stroked him in all the right ways.


	13. Caring Wreckers

What's Wrong with a Little Destruction?  
28 Wreckers

Taken from the 28Character meme that's been popping up every now and again. Done because, well, the Wreckers are awesome in any continuity.

Note: So, canonically speaking, Topspin was never mentioned as being a medic or having medical skills. But as he was the one shown diagnosing and later watching over Afterburner and Nosecone during their stint with radiation poisoning in Stormbringer. So I'm going out on a limb. Creative interpretation and whatnot.

* * *

13. Caring Wreckers

_"It is not enough to help the feeble up, but to support him after."  
-William Shakespeare_

Being giant, non-biological beings it's a fairly difficult thing to get a Transformer sick. Not impossible and not always life threatening, but nonetheless difficult. So when the Wreckers were traipsing around in some backwater boonies of a planet all they worried enough to check was the radiation level, magnetic field, temperature and moisture level, geared themselves accordingly and- as their battle cry said –wrecked and ruled. The Decepticons launched a counter attack that included hitting them with a chemical corrosive. Not an intense amount of damage was had and the worst of the wounded was Topspin that got the corrosive full-force in the midsection, but he could still walk (limp) under his own power.

And then… things started going not so well. Topspin's fans were continuously blowing and his engine kept overheating. He began to get dizzy, tired, ached all over and the worst was when Scoop rushed in, yelling that Topspin purged and passed out in the hall.

Though Topspin was the closest thing they had to a full-fledged doctor, all of the Wreckers had more than passing knowledge of first aid and basic medicine. They laid Topspin out in their tiny medbay and drew a vial of fluid from his fuel, analyzed the sample and sent the data to Preceptor. Springer doubted this was caused by the Decepticon's stint with chemical warfare as no one else had any adverse reaction to it, but he wasn't taking any chances in inadvertently spreading anything.

"It seems," Preceptor told them (was translated as telling them), "that when Topspin was hit by this corrosive, it opened a deep wound in his side, correct? I believe the organics of the swamp seeped into his internals and all the bacteria contaminated his fuel."

The Wreckers considered this thoughtfully. "So you're saying," Sandstorm said slowly, "that Topspin is just suffering from… what, fuel poisoning?"

"That is one way to put it. But since it has traversed into his main fuel line, it's widespread and will take some time for his internal repairs to purge and purify the bacteria. My tests has not shown any dangers with just letting this run its course." He smiled patiently at the strike force. "All he really needs is rest and antibiotics. If he gets worse, I suggest you bring him to me so I can do a more thorough diagnosis."

Springer nodded. "Understood. Thanks."

Of course when Topspin heard he called it- to use the Earthian term –bullshit. Never mind the fact that his optic visor was faded and he was hot to the touch. "'M not sick and I don't need rest."

Springer lifted an unconvinced optic ridge, standing over the prone 'bot in the medbay. "Oh yeah?"

"Yeah."

"I have no problems keeping you here for the next mega-cycle."

Topspin propped himself up on his elbows and forced himself not to wince. "You're not a medical officer. You can't put me in quarantine."

"No, but I _am_ your superior and I _can_ have you confined to quarters." Topspin frowned, swaying a little though his sight swam too much for him to notice. Springer did, though. "Or we could swing by Earth and get a second opinion from Ratchet. I don't mind."

The remaining color in Topspin's visor drained out. "You wouldn't! You know what he'd do if-" he slapped a hand over his mouth component and nearly fell on his face trying to get out of the berth. Hands gripped the blue and white and Springer practically carried him to a receptacle just in time for him to purge.

"Yeah," he absently rubbed little circles at the base of Topspin's neck as his shoulders heaved, "I'm not convinced on your health."

"Hrrrgk."

"If bed rest is the fastest way for you to recover, I am not above strapping you to your berth and posting a watch on you. You're not a member we can easily replace, you know."

"Bet you say that to all the purging mechs," came the mumbled reply.

"No, really. Insane guys with an affinity for explosions are every where if you look hard enough. But a medic that willingly rips off a Decepticon's leg with his own hands and attaches it to his buddy to stave off fluid loss is surprisingly harder to come by."

Topspin scoffed, pushing away from the receptacle and Springer could hear an edge of a smile in his vocalizer. "Was only once."

"And Twist is still thankful for it." He patted Topspin's shoulder and helped him back into the berth. "Rest up. Whirl said he's going to stop by after his shift in case you need anything."

"Hn." He stretched out and tentatively put an arm across his visor. "Right." Terrible though he felt, it was nice to know the others cared.

* * *

Okami-chan: Springer has always been one of my favorites- my first clear memory of Transformers was being sat down in front of a large screen TV and watching the movie. I certainly hope IDW brings them back somehow or another!

Zosocrowe: Aw, thanks XD I love writing dailogue for these types of characters. Like it wasn't so obvious :P


	14. On Their Knees Wreckers

What's Wrong with a Little Destruction?  
28 Wreckers

Taken from the 28Character meme that's been popping up every now and again. Done because, well, the Wreckers are awesome in any continuity.

Note: I'll admit, this is one of my favorites so far and also one of the reasons why I chose to do this 28 thing.

* * *

14. On Their Knees Wreckers

_"No one makes a fool of me / Without receiving retribution / No one hurts me and goes free"  
-Red Delicious, "Bring You Down"_

They didn't know how this happened- it… it was _impossible_. And yet there was Roadbuster, hands bound behind his back, on his knees, head pressed into the ground by a foot against the column of his neck. Octane grinned despite the myriad of weapons pointed at him because not one of those triggers was covered with a finger. Not so long as he had his own weapon pressed against Roadbuster's helmet.

"When I said 'lower your weapons'," he drawled pleasantly, "it wasn't a suggestion."

"Drop your weapon and back the slag off," Springer hissed in return, "before we turn you into dust." His finger twitched but didn't move to the trigger. That made Octane grin wider.

"No. In fact, I believe it's going to go this way. _You_ will drop your weapons _and_ you will leave this planet and you will let us go about sieging to our spark's content. Or," he reached across the width of his body to raise the level of his rifle. It sang a high, destructive note. "Your buddy here is going to be one head shorter." Under his foot Roadbuster shifted and Octane dug his heel harder into the column of his neck. Roadbuster grunted and that made the other Wreckers _seethe_.

"Don't do it, Springer." Roadbuster hissed, visor flashing slightly as Octane's foot twisted painfully against him. "Don't you _dare_."

For a long moment no one moved. And then Octane hooked his finger over the trigger pointedly. Sandstorm shifted a little closer to his leader. "Orders?"

He stayed silent, weapon still trained on the Decepticon but his optics flickered to Roadbuster. He shifted higher on his knees, but otherwise did nothing. Jaw clenched tight, Springer powered down his weapon and tossed it to the ground. His team looked at him, partly shocked, before they followed suit. Octane grinned hard and dark.

"Now- get your hands in the air." Glaring venom, they did as they were told. Springer- the last to comply –sighed heavily and lifted his hands-

His arm blaster fired, nearly catching Octane in the knee. The Decepticon cursed, backpedaling and raising his weapon to the green triplechanger-

A hand gripped Octane's head and slammed him into the ground. His optics went wide as Roadbuster glowered at him in fury- the shackles on his wrist severed by the shot –and his murderous growl made Octane's fuel pump shudder and freeze.

"No one forces a Wrecker to his knees."


	15. Obedient Wreckers

What's Wrong with a Little Destruction?  
28 Wreckers

Taken from the 28Character meme that's been popping up every now and again. Done because, well, the Wreckers are awesome in any continuity.

Note: What the rest of the Wreckers were during while Springer was off in Spotlight: Kup. Briefly mentioned in Silly Wreckers. And, yes, Roadbuster comes off as the second-in-command to me.

* * *

15. Obedient Wreckers 

_"They that will not be counseled, cannot be helped. If you do not hear reason she will rap you on the knuckles."  
-Benjamin Franklin_

When the order came in not every Wrecker was there to hear it but the ones that were had the same response:

"No."

"_…no? What do you mean no?_"

"No means," Twin Twist had the communicator in one hand and was firing a rifle with the other, "we are _not_ going to do it."

On the other end Bluestreak's voice was broken up by the sound of battle. "_We have to evac the planet- there isn't exactly a choice in the matter_."

"Oh no. There's always a choice. These Decepticon bastards saw us turn tail and run once and I'll be damned if they think they managed to push us back twice!"

"_You were redeployed!_"

"_They_ don't know that!"

There was a muttered noise, a cry of pain and a yelled cursed that was swallowed up by a throaty roar of rapid fire burst. Bluestreak's voice was more strained and snappish. "_Look- we_ have _to retreat. We're out numbered, out gunned and out of luck! We_ might _have had a chance before you were pulled out but that's gone now! Planet-wide evac is the only thing we can do asides from die!_"

Twin Twist snarled, Wreckers pulling in a tighter clump against superior firepower. They _were_ beat and they knew it, but that didn't mean they wanted to retreat. Not from any battle, not from this one. "Wreckers don't run from anyone- we don't run _for_ anyone and we sure as slag aren't doing it for you!"

A larger hand snatched the communicator out of the driller's hand and Roadbuster, swaying, part of his optic visor cracked and falling off, still managed to look like a powerhouse. He told the communicator gruffly, "We'll get back to you," before flicking it off. "What do you think you're doing?" His vocalizer came out heavy.

Beside Twin Twist, Scoop snapped, "They wanted us to assist with the evac!"

"So?"

They gaped. "_So_? They want us to retreat!"

Sometimes Roadbuster thought he was dealing with fledglings. "This isn't the first time we've been forced to retreat. Doubt it'll be the last."

Something exploded off to their side, cutting off any retort. Eventually Broadside muttered just enough to be heard, "Those were always Springer's orders."

Roadbuster didn't draw himself to full height but he suddenly seemed bigger. "Wreckers!" He snapped louder than any artillery shell. "What is our primary objective?"

They froze and looked at him oddly. "To… kill the enemy?"

"To support any friendlies in the area! This is Bluestreak's detachment, it's his command and we're obligated to help him in any way that he needs us! If he needs us to cover his aft as his crew retreats, we take our happy chassis over there and say 'take your time, we'll slag anyone that so much as _looks_ at your exhaust' and once the area is clear, _we_ leave. That's how it's always gone and that's how it will _continue_ to go, Springer or not! Is that understood?"

Cowed by Roadbuster's aft chewing, the others nodded. "Yessir."

He glowered. "Pull that elite-snob slag again and I'll make sure you get left behind." He flicked open the communicator and said, "Bluestreak, we're on our way."


	16. Dominant Wreckers

What's Wrong with a Little Destruction?  
28 Wreckers

Taken from the 28Character meme that's been popping up every now and again. Done because, well, the Wreckers are awesome in any continuity.

Note: The human equivalent of the Primus Nut would be the Jesus Nut, a slang term for the main rotor retaining nut that holds the rotor to the helicopter. If it came off, only Primus (Jesus) could help you.

* * *

16. Dominant Wreckers

_"I was a born troublemaker and might as well earn a living at it."  
-Bill Mauldin_

Topspin snapped the targeting screen down. "Cannon's out!" He shouted in his comm, slapping the button on the side of the anti-aircraft cannon that would activate the orbital jump, sending it back to Xantium. He unholstered his rifle, knelt behind some rubble and started firing at the jets around him.

"Twin Twist," Springer spun about in the air, bright flashes of fire spraying the ground, "watch your left! They're trying a flanking maneuver!"

"Got it covered!" The driller transformed, dual drills piercing the side of the canyon- destroying what little integrity he had intentionally left earlier, landscape crashing down into the path and on the Decepticons. Twin Twist shifted back into robot mode, pulled out two grenades and tossed them over the avalanche. There were two explosions, a blast of heat and he couldn't help grinning at the screams. "Morons- Wreckers always got their traps prepared!"

Roadbuster's voice crackled on a tight link. "Springer- we're getting a call from a group that's got themselves pinned!"

"I'm reading them- Sandstorm, Scoop! Bail 'em out!"

"You got it, Chief!" Sandstorm cackled, dropping out of the air and into land mode. "We're going for burn, Scoop!" In response the smaller Wrecker hopped onto the hood, blasting at anything that moved and wore purple all the while screaming, "_GETOUTTATHEWAAAAAAAY!!_"

"More boogies inbound!" Broadside called out, banking hard to intercept the incoming Decepticons.

Whirl came in from the other side, right down the middle and called out loudly, "Yo, Ramjet! You an' me, pal! Head on!"

The Decepticon barked in laughter. "I'll tear you apart, Autobot freak!"

"Whirl- I'm tired of putting your rotary assembly back together!" Topspin shouted in encouragement.

"Yeah, yeah- kiss my Primus nut!" He didn't alter course, flew head-on at Ramjet- and then transformed, looping an arm around his nosecone and hooked his heels on the wings.

"Wha- hey!" The rifles in Whirl's hip components flared against Ramjet's underside and fired two shots into him. "HRGK!" As the jet went down, Whirl leapt clear and transformed, hooting and turning to chase down more of the Decepticon bastards.

"Yeah- who wants somma this?"

Desperately they tried to dodge the Wreckers, but two others went down in a blaze of fire. "These guys are _crazy_! ARGH!!" A barrage of missiles ripped him apart.

"Crazy?" Roadbuster muttered, empty missile launcher still smoking even as he tossed it aside to fire his rifle cannon at the ground forces. "That's rude!"

Topspin- at his side –paused in his assault to reload. "Yeah- we're not crazy! We're fragging badass!"

With the enemy beginning to scatter, Springer called out to his 'bots. "Wreckers- time to bag these slag-suckers up!" With a war cry that shattered any last reserves for the Decepticons to stand their ground, the Wreckers fell on them in a blood-thirsty glee.


	17. Naive Wreckers

What's Wrong with a Little Destruction?  
28 Wreckers

Taken from the 28Character meme that's been popping up every now and again. Done because, well, the Wreckers are awesome in any continuity.

Note: This... was about as close to naive as I could get them;;

* * *

17. Naive Wreckers

_"The awareness of our own strength makes us modest."  
-Paul Cezanne_

There were voices- not exactly loud but not entirely discreet either. Optics watched them with a muted glow- patient, observing, itching for that perfect moment.

"Man," there was an orange 'bot- the triplechanger –holding a sealed case with impatience, "when was the last time we were ever on a mission _before_ all hell broke loose?"

In his alt mode it was difficult to see the orange shovel shrug, but it gave off that impression as he continued to dig shallow holes. "Safety precautions, they say."

"I just hope there's some action coming up soon." A huge hulk of gray and red stood watch though even his attentiveness couldn't pinpoint the observer blended in with the shadows and dirt. "I didn't join this unit to play anyone's gate guard."

"Tell me about it." Once the holes were finished being dug both orange Autobots began placing objects inside- mines, the watcher noticed. Each were activated, carefully placed and even more carefully covered up again. From the actions and shape some were pressure sensitive, some proximity and one a type he wasn't too familiar with. Noting the placement of each type the observer labeled the area a danger zone.

"Nothing we can do about it, though." The smallest Wrecker's hands were practiced as he smoothed out mounds and trickled the dirt to make it look natural. "Who can say no to an order straight from Prime?"

The orange triplechanger- Sandstorm, he recalled –snickered. "The Dynobots."

"If you want to join them…"

"What? Who said anything about joining them?"

"You'd have to add about 100 tons of bulk, anyway." Broadside added with an audible smirk. The only one the watcher had any trouble getting a name for was the shovel who only took a moment longer to place.

"And make me too heavy to get airborne? No thanks!"

The shovel- Scoop –rocked back on his heels, wiping off his hands. "Alright, we're all set. Let's get back to base- I want to get cozy with some hot energon."

"I hear that." The three of them gathered their gear and went off in their normal, confident swagger, speaking and joking in low tones. Their slinking company shadowed quietly after, bypassing the rustling underbrush and cracking branches as if he'd done this thousands of times before. They didn't notice him following and he was content with that. After all, they were going to lead him to much bigger game.

He was almost beyond the danger zone easily when something exploded from the brush behind him, another to his side and things fired on him, tagging painfully over his side and haunch. He bellowed and roared and fought back where he could, danced nimbly away when he couldn't. A narrowly dodged missile blew the ground out from under his feet and he tumbled only to have something else explode under his side and then something else exploded and he realized he'd fallen into the Primus damned _mine field_-

Eventually his world stopped being filled with blinding pain and noise and he heard through all the static a voice saying, "Huh. That was quick. Gotta be a record."

"_The slag happened? We got noise from your area._" A voice crackled over their communicator.

"Hey, RB. Had a Decepticon trip the sentry mine. Ended up stumbling into… everything else, it looks like." Lines of system failures scrolled across shattered optics and he could just barely make out Sandstorm kneeling down before him. "I think it's Razorclaw."

"Or what's left of him." The other triplechanger added.

"What do you want us to do with him?"

"_Bring him back with you._" Came the answer. "_Survive or not, it's best to have him where we can keep tabs on him than worry about Predaking later. Make sure he's offline._"

"Of course." There was no glee as they looked down on their beaten enemy.

"_And when you drop him off, restock and get that mine field operational again._"

"Awww!" They looked down at the sparking Predacon, this time with annoyed anger. "Feh. And here I thought Razorclaw was the _smart_ one. Did he really think we wouldn't have a secondary defense?"

"Stupid Decepticon."

* * *

Zosocrowe: To be fair- as much as I enjoy getting reviews I really just write to get ideas out of my head so I don't really mind the lack of them. That being said, I am kicking around a couple other thoughts for fics, though for the most part the Wreckers only have any real appearance in one...

VAWitch: In Obedient Wreckers, yup! I've always been a firm believer in going strong right through the last stretch

FloofWolfe: I rather enjoy the special teams myself. I'm more of an Autobot fan myself, but I'll pretty much look into anything for the gestalt teams. They're so underused.


	18. Drinking Energon Wreckers

What's Wrong with a Little Destruction?  
28 Wreckers

Taken from the 28Character meme that's been popping up every now and again. Done because, well, the Wreckers are awesome in any continuity.

Note: Drinking games will never not be fun (to watch).

* * *

18. Drinking Energon Wreckers 

_"When you participate in sporting events it's not whether you win or loose, it's how drunk you get."  
-Dan Castellaneta_

There was a game. A fairly infamous game. This game had, so far, been banned by three detachments, four bases and forbidden by order of Prime to be performed on any outpost, ship or frontline unit. This game was called Cocktail Runner and it was created by the Wreckers and perfected by their getting it blackballed everywhere it was played.

The rules were simple: You got a team (as many members as you wanted), picked a circuit and the first player from each team had to race around the circuit. When they crossed the line each member had to drink a container of energon, one after another and then the next team member raced. And so on until every player crossed the line or the other teams passed out.

Some of the best players were the twins if not just because their bootleg high-grade was a cocktail of ingredients designed to get one thrashed the hardest way possible. Hence why it was in the name. And even those that weren't able to participate had as much fun (and less incurred damage) watching the drunken proceedings. Blaster even made a nice, comfy profit compiling a 'Best of' disc.

Right now the crowd was hooting as Sunstreaker and Topspin took a corner a little too wide and smashed their rears into the opposite wall. Being a hover vehicle Topspin was theoretically faster, but being over-energized the lack of traction had him swerving all over the place. Above and ahead of them Powerglide wobbled and nearly crashed as he tried to land. Except when he transformed he forgot to get his legs under him and ended up skidding across the line on his belly. Sunstreaker did much the same, his depth perception so off he slammed right into his brother and Wheeljack. Topspin only faired slightly better, having wanged himself into another wall and spun his way to a stop against Roadbuster's leg.

Cheers and yells went up as every player- only a few drinks from their limit –picked up their containers, knocking them back in a wave. Topspin- after countless rounds and the last impressive 1080 –was having trouble transforming, let along drinking. Another team was also having problems since Inferno passed out during the last lap, leaving the other team uncontended, drinking with the flourish of champions.

Only one thought went through inebriated minds: Don't let 'em win.

As Sideswipe slammed his empty container down and Tracks raised his, Whirl yanked the energon from his grasp, sharp edges of his fingers leaving a nice scratch down his wrist guard. With a whoop Whirl ran (staggered) for his life. "Fer th' love of Primus, Spin- drink!"

Jazz- far more coordinated than he had any right to be –gave chase while the rest of his team tripped over their own feet. When Air Raid went down he looked to be out for the count. Hands grasped at his shoulders and Whirl threw the container. "TB! Catch!"

Trailbreaker nearly fell over grasping for the thing, gyroscope protesting as it tried to keep him upright. Mirage came up right behind him and ran full tilt into a forcefield, leaving Trailbreaker cackling madly as he ran. Everyone forgot the point behind what they were doing and gave chase, only knowing they were playing some absurdly large and complicated game of keep away that forced everyone to clamor down the hall, tackling each other as they went.

Streetwise attempted a forward lateral to Springer as Hot Rod slammed into the back of the Protectobot's legs. Even though the knock and Springer's double-vision certainly didn't help, the toss was well off it's mark and as 'bot, container and… another 'bot came to a rather loud and painful halt, everyone else stopped. With the exception of fans and ventilators whirling and the occasional snicker everything was quiet enough for someone to mutter, "We are so slagged."

Springer slowly pulled himself on to his hands and knees, saw who it was he ran into and spluttered a laugh behind twitching lips. With a hand shaking with effort he set the energon container at a jauntier angle from where it was caught on a chevron.

Prowl did nothing but _glare_.

Feeling he should say something, Springer told him, "Looks good on ya." The hallway splorfled, filling with loud, raucous laughter and the sound of 'bots falling over themselves hysterically. None of them could stop laughing- not when Prowl roughly shoved Springer away, not Prowl had to physically turn around and collect himself before the amount of transgressions he found threatened to crash his battle computer and certainly not when he marched every single one of them to the brig.


	19. Greedy Wreckers

What's Wrong with a Little Destruction?  
28 Wreckers

Taken from the 28Character meme that's been popping up every now and again. Done because, well, the Wreckers are awesome in any continuity.

Note: Given just how armed some of these character designs are, they probably have an entire bar designated for acquired weaponry.

* * *

19. Greedy Wreckers

_"Even in the worst of times, someone turns a profit."  
-Ferengi Rule of Acquisition #162_

Broadside was directing the placement of cargo when Sandstorm came in. Scoop, Twin Twist and Whirl were setting things down where he told them, occasionally referring back to the datapad in his hand. "Yo, Side." The smaller triplechanger said as he approached. "Smokescreen says it'll take a while before he can make time to meet up with us. Duty and all."

"That works in our favor, then. Once Topspin is available can you tell him to see if he can't fix up the rest of the scram cannons?"

"Sure thing. And Springer wants to know if you already went through our own inventory yet."

"Here." Broadside handed Sandstorm another datapad. He was never a very talkative 'bot and the other Wreckers understood it, also knew how much he hated being told his job when he was already fully aware of what had to be done. Sandstorm didn't say another word as he took the pad and limped out to wait his turn to be under Topspin's laser scalpel. "Scoop- pull out five pulse cannons, set the rest in the top crate."

"Right!" The weapons clinked but were carefully picked out and set against the bulkhead.

"Twist, could you salvage that flamethrower?"

"It's busted, Side. Even if we welded all the leaks shut we'd have to replace the pressure gauge and to do that we'd have to rehaul the entire tank. The only thing worthwhile is the nozzle."

"Unscrew it and put it with the rest of the miscellany."

"Check."

"That's 43 working pistols- 36 of them armor modifiers." Whirl announced from where he was carefully sorting through what was once an impressive pile random small arms. "The rest is slag." Broadside jotted the number down and then waved for Whirl to put the broken ones with the rest of the junk.

Most of the other Autobots thought it was barbaric the way the Wreckers would go back through a cold battlefield and stripped every weapon- attached, working or otherwise –from Decepticon bodies. Even Optimus Prime wasn't entirely pleased with the practice, but he understood the logic behind it. The Autobots needed weapons to fight. The Autobots didn't want the Decepticons to get more weapons if they had the choice. The Decepticons- as evident from their use of smelting pools as part of their torture arrangements –had no problems stripping weapons from the dead or making them from bodies.

As savage and callous as it may seem, the Wreckers helped supply the Autobots with weapons of all sorts- small arms, assault rifles, artillery, mortar, anything and everything that could be taken. Their acquisitions were painstakingly categorized and inspected. Anything that could be fixed was. Anything that wasn't was stripped of whatever useful thing that could be reused and anything left over got melted down to be used for something worthwhile. It wasn't a pretty task, but it had to be done and it certainly helped that whatever they ended up pushing Smokescreen's way he gave them a small cut of what the sale value would've been. A small percentage, but it was a nice bonus nonetheless.

"Oh-hoho_ho_! Sweet Primus- this railgun still works!" Despite having no mouth component, Whirl looked every bit the excited fledgling, holding the large weapon against his thigh, a diagnostic scanner in the other.

"That," Broadside drawled with a hidden grin, "goes in the Don't Tell Smokescreen pile." Along with the mass driver and micro-cannon and any other toy of mass destruction the Wreckers didn't feel like giving up. Yet another of the various reasons the Wreckers did what they did.

After all, to the victors go the spoils and whatnot.


	20. Daring Wreckers

What's Wrong with a Little Destruction?  
28 Wreckers

Taken from the 28Character meme that's been popping up every now and again. Done because, well, the Wreckers are awesome in any continuity.

Note: Yes, in case you haven't noticed, I love doing the more military-based scenes with them as I do humor-based.

* * *

20. Daring Wreckers

_"Ambition is enthusiasm with a purpose."  
-Frank Tyger_

The entire team was huddled over a map as Sandstorm went over the intelligence he'd gathered. "-and here," with a finger he circled an area within a long, thin valley, "looks like their heaviest fortifications. Couldn't get in too far- detected sensor placements here, here, here, continuing on at regular intervals."

"At least they're smart enough to cover their aft." Springer leaned forward, considering the layout. Pointing at some markers he asked, "Were these missile bunkers the only ones you found or the only ones they have?"

"I'm only about 92 percent positive that those are the only ones they have. There were a few vague bits of information I pulled, but if they have more it can't be very many."

In Springer's mind, one unaccounted-for missile bunker was too many, but he couldn't fault Sandstorm's ability or thoroughness. Best to go in with a partially incomplete idea of what they're up against that having no clue at all. "Armaments?"

"Typical fare: missiles, artillery, satellite defenses, predominantly ground-based forces, and whatever of the local inhabitants they could twist to their cause." Sandstorm waved a hand. "Actually couldn't get much help from this planet. Not like the Stunticons are the most personable 'cons around."

Having that particular gestalt group probably helped them more than anything else, really. "Alright, Wreckers- here's the plan. Scoop and Twin Twist- I want you two to take control of this missile bunker here and hit all the others you can. Our first priority is to get rid of these before they decide to start nuking our buddies with them." He gave the two a knowing look. "I'm sure you know your roles from there."

"Create havoc and dead bodies. No problem." They gave him a thumbs up.

"After the missile crisis is over- Whirl, I want you to sweep in, make sure the satellite link-ups are out of commission. Make sure they can't activate their satellite defenses, no orbital jumps, no long-range communications."

Whirl gave a mock salute. "Utter destruction- I'm all over it."

Springer's hand moved over the map, enlarging certain areas, double-checking positions and information, watching each blip move in realtime. "Roadbuster will meet up and regroup the Autobot forces just past this ridge. Hound isn't a battlefield leader and he knows it, he won't give you a hard time about giving out orders. So long as the Stunticons are together they're a viable threat. Their weakest link is Wildrider- Sandstorm is going to draw him down into this ravine where Topspin, Broadside and another squad will wait to ambush him. After he's put out, the three of you will sweep in from the rear and we'll have most of the Decepticon forces caught in a pincer."

They all mulled over this plan- Sandstorm pumped at the idea of going fender-to-fender with a fellow stunt junky. "The only problem is," he brought up, "if Motormaster catches Wildrider trying to go off on his own- even to chase after me –he'll go ballistic on his aft."

A lopsided grin quirked Springer's lips. "We give Motormaster a distraction, someone he'd never be able to pass up trying to run into the ground." He jerked a thumb towards himself. "Me."

Groans went up all around him. "There ya go again," Twin Twist grumbled, "giving yourself the best missions."

"Hey- when you lead your own crack-team of skidplate-kickers you can take all the fun parts for yourself." His broad shoulders went up in an easy shrug. "Besides, the leader of the Wreckers is a much more tempting target than a passing grunt."

"Yeah, I'll grunt you…" He gave a mock growl as Springer pushed his face away.

"Alright, you've all got your assignments," the map flickered off and Springer pocketed the projector. "Roadbuster, Twin Twist, Scoop- get going to your positions. The rest of us will hold back for half a cycle before we start the distraction. Remember- don't overwhelm them until we're certain the missile bunkers and satellite relays are down." He paused to look at each one of his team members in turn who gazed back with steady and ready optics. A satisfied grin spread over Springer's lips. "Alright. Let's wreck and rule."


	21. Exploring Wreckers

What's Wrong with a Little Destruction?  
28 Wreckers

Taken from the 28Character meme that's been popping up every now and again. Done because, well, the Wreckers are awesome in any continuity.

Note: Just because it was bound to happen I did some rough character sketches of half the Wreckers (Sandstorm, Scoop, Topspin and Whirl) as (what else?) humans. You can find them on my dA page (ajremix.deviantart). The other four will come up shortly, after I finish tweaking their designs a bit.

* * *

21. Exploring Wreckers

_"The consensus seemed to be that if really large numbers of men were sent to storm the mountain, then enough might survive the rocks to take the citadel. This is essentially the basis of all military thinking."  
-Terry Pratchett_

Topspin and Twin Twist pressed their backs against the cliff side, keeping their heads low as gunfire peppered all around them. "Oh yeah!" The medic spat out as his cover was slowly being whittled away around him. "Charge the fragging encampment! We've got you covered! _My fragging_! Remind me to kill Springer after this!"

"Noted!" Twin Twist shouted back, risking the chance to fire off a couple rounds of his own and nearly got some planted in his head for his efforts. "Cheating slaggers!" He yelled at the Decepticons. "It's not a fair fight if we can't shoot you back!"

He wasn't really expecting a reply but "Frag you, Autofreak!", was a pretty standard answer. A nudge to the midsection distracted him.

"Twist- check this out!" The muzzle of Topspin's riffle pointed at a crevice in the cliff side that their sensor told them was far too deep to be an actual crevice.

"Better than sticking around here- let's go!"

It was a tunnel, certainly. They cycled their optics to infrared and the deeper they went the more difficult it was to see even at the highest enhancement. When they reached the end of the tunnel they were relying more on their scanners than their optics. Twin Twist felt around, fingers sensing the seams of a door.

"Well," the driller said, turning to look at Topspin. The only thing they could see of each other were their optics and even those didn't do much to pierce the utter blackness around them. "Ready to see what fate has in store for us?"

Topspin shrugged before he recalled Twin Twist couldn't see it. "If you believe in that kinda thing. Go for it."

The door was pushed open and light spilled out, sending sharp pains through their cranial units and making both Wreckers shutter their optics. "Aaaargh!" It took a good nano-klik before their optics- still overly sensitive –were capable of processing what was going on.

And entire squad of Decepticons starred right back at them.

"Oh fr-" they pulled the door shut just as the Decepticons started firing at them. "RUN!" They scrambled like the gaping mouth of the Pit was chasing after them- thank Primus the rank-and-file Deceptigrunt couldn't shoot in broad daylight, let alone the dark. Up ahead they could make out the tiny speck of light of the cave opening slowly pounding closer and the shouts of their pursuers echoed into a cacophony of rage all around them.

Twin Twist pushed Topspin ahead of him. "Transform!" The clink of something- two somethings –dropping clued Topspin on what was going on.

"You suicidal freak!" If it was said in anger or adrenaline-forced glee neither knew because both jumpstarters transformed and got the frag out of there. The concussion from the grenades blew the two entirely out of the cave as it crumbled down behind them. They hit the opposite cliff hard, Twin Twist half on top his partner and Topspin knocked on his side so his cushion of air pushed them back against the other wall again. They lay there for a while.

And then started laughing. "Oh my frag! I can't believe that just happened!"

"What- the tunnel or that we're alive?"

"The being alive, mostly- slagging hell!" Hot ammo was raining down on them and the jumpstarters transformed, finding themselves- again –pressing their backs to the cliff face. "Argh- I can't believe they're still _shooting_ at us!"

Twin Twist couldn't help grinning, readying his rifle. "Never a dull moment when you're a Wrecker."

"Just shut up and kill something, will you?"

* * *

Zosocrowe: Aw, thanks! And I must confess that I've had a lot of exposure to that sort of mindset: growing up military and doing four years really helps one get a handle on the unique outlook military members have XD

Akisawana: Thank you! I actually didn't know who the Wreckers were either (i was a tfcartoon child) until I picked up Target 2006 and somehow they just... really clicked with me

Okami-chan: I know. Damn my assiduousness TT


	22. At the Beach Wreckers

What's Wrong with a Little Destruction?  
28 Wreckers

Taken from the 28Character meme that's been popping up every now and again. Done because, well, the Wreckers are awesome in any continuity.

Note: Behold my love of dry wit!

* * *

22. At the Beach Wreckers

_"Why do I want to sit on a beach? I am not out of gas."  
-Jack Welch_

"So." Sandstorm said when he finally got close enough. Water poured out of every vent and crevice.

Broadside just stood there with his arms across his chest and waves lapping over his feet. "Yup."

Instead of going to stand by his fellow triplechanger, Sandstorm walked around, looked in every direction, then stood a little ways off with his hands on his hip components. In the distance was another island with a large transmitter. "Huh. That's some distance."

"Yup."

"How long you think before they come?"

There was a thoughtful pause. "I don't think they're even here at all."

There was another pause, this one not thoughtful or even all that happy with the idea. "Wait- you mean-"

"Yup."

Sandstorm just _looked_ at him. "I am _not_ going to accept that this was just a-an accident!"

"You don't have to."

"I won't!"

"That doesn't mean it's not true."

He gave Broadside a sideways glare. "Well thanks for dashing my delusions."

"Always a pleasure."

They stood there, on opposite sides, watching opposite skies until one of them pointed out- "There's Whirl." They stood together and watched as Whirl did as Sandstorm did before him and Broadside before him. He cut easily through the air until his engines suddenly died, faltered and splashed into the sea.

"So." Sandstorm said again as they watched Whirl flounder and gradually make his way towards the beach where they stood. "How many more do you think need to get stranded before they figure out the Decepticons set up an electronic scrambler net in this sector?"

"Not too many, I hope. We only have one flier left."


	23. Bath Time Wreckers

What's Wrong with a Little Destruction?  
28 Wreckers

Taken from the 28Character meme that's been popping up every now and again. Done because, well, the Wreckers are awesome in any continuity.

Note: ...this reminded me how much I wish I had a bathtub.

* * *

23. Bath Time Wreckers

_"I can't think of any sorrow in the world that a hot bath wouldn't help, just a little bit."  
-Susan Glaspell_

For most races- especially the organic type –bathing was a private event. This was not so with Transformers. It was communal, mainly due to the fact that such large and often bulky robots couldn't reach every part of themselves and sometimes even high-pressure jets couldn't get all the grim off. The Wrecker's washracks were especially large- the one real luxury the strike force was determined not to skimp on.

There were the typical racks, modified to fit the different alt modes, adjustable jet heads with a turning disk and hydraulic lift. An added feature that got most Autobots going into jealous pouts were the pools- two very large ones capable of holding three 'bots Broadside's size. One was strictly for mild alkali, the other with strong acid detergents and both were heated. For the most part the Wreckers preferred using the air jets to dry off, but they still had the soft clothes for a little extra pampering. And- the part that nearly had Sunstreaker applying for reassignment when he found out –a wash tunnel designed specifically for wax. Wasn't used often, just when they really felt like hitting the town something fierce, but there nonetheless.

Being 'bots whose idea of a full and productive day is to not have one speck of chassis left unscathed, bathing was the one thing that made a day perfect. Or worth surviving. If ever one Wrecker went to the racks, at least two others would follow him- more often than not it would end with the entire group settling in, talking, joking and relaxing for cycles at a time. It got to the point where they had a computer link from their bridge set up in the racks. Not physically in the same room of course. The washracks was not a place to work- it was a place to get _away_ from work. No, it was set in the small entryway, easily accessible to anyone inside to keep tabs on while someone else took a brush to their small crevices.

Spending an uninterrupted day in the racks was their idea of a holiday. It wasn't at all unusual to find Whirl up to his audio in the detergent pool, purring contently as he soaked. Or Scoop sitting on top of Roadbuster's alt mode, taking a bristle brush to every cannon and tread. More often than should probably happen they've found Springer asleep, slowly turning on a raised platform with the jets streaming over him. This was their sanctuary, a concession they refused to go without. Topspin would never deny any 'bot- with dire, life-threatening wounds or not –entry to the washracks.

It may seem silly or just plain weird to other Autobots, but the Wreckers didn't care. Because, at the end of the day when you've been sent packing by overwhelming Decepticon forces, been running so low on energon minor systems were forced to shut down and so riddled with holes your framework is threatening to be compromised there's nothing else in the galaxy like a good, hot soak to remind you why you're alive.


	24. Disheveled Wreckers

What's Wrong with a Little Destruction?  
28 Wreckers

Taken from the 28Character meme that's been popping up every now and again. Done because, well, the Wreckers are awesome in any continuity.

Note: And good times were had by all. Or not.

* * *

24. Disheveled Wreckers

_"If you obey all the rules, you miss all the fun."  
-Katherine Hepburn_

"I can't believe this. I can't believe _you_!" Topspin growled, placing unnecessary supplies back in their place and disposing of the rest. "What were you _thinking_? _Were_ you thinking? I'd expect this kind of behavior from Twist or Scoop or Whirl- even Sandstorm but _you_?" He glared and got the sloppiest of prone shrugs back. "So you'll just go around, putting whatever someone hands you in your fuel processor and that's that, huh? Go wherever some thing with a slick skidplate leads you?

"If Broadside hadn't seen you leave that club we never would've know where to start _looking_ for you let alone _find_ you! This is completely unacceptable for a mech in your position!"

There was another kind of shrug and a slurred something that might've been 'Wasn't that bad' and that threw Topspin into another fit.

"_They found you chained to berth_! Stripped of all your weaponry, I might add. _All of them_! You were so out of it you were telling Whirl that Sandstorm got urges to play with his rotary assembly _while Sandstorm was right there_."

"…oops?"

"Oops." Topspin threw his hands into the air. "Five cycles trying to track down your aft and all the trouble you caused and I get an 'oops'. You got in a fight on the way back to Xantium- do you know that? An Enforcer stopped you guys to make sure everything was all right and you punched him in the face. We had to bail you out and- I don't know if you realize this but you're _not_ cheap! I don't even want to know what Prime will say _if_ he finds out! And now you're turning me into _Ratchet_ for Primus' sake! I should not be in here, lecturing to some drugged up mech grinning at me like the unrepentant slagger you are! I know everything I just said went in one audio and out the other and I know if I ask you're just going to say something that'll make me throw an arc welder at you- but hey! I'm a Wrecker! I have to have some masochistic tendencies in me, so I'll ask-" he leaned against the berth, "what do you have to say for yourself?"

Right on cue Roadbuster's muddied green visor glowed with a hidden grin. "Was one helluva party."


	25. Exhausted Wreckers

What's Wrong with a Little Destruction?  
28 Wreckers

Taken from the 28Character meme that's been popping up every now and again. Done because, well, the Wreckers are awesome in any continuity.

Note: Springer, Broadside, Twin Twist and Roadbuster's designs are now up in my dA account (ajremix.deviant)!

* * *

25. Exhausted Wreckers

_"The enemy advances, we retreat; the enemy camps, we harass; the enemy tires, we attack; the enemy retreats, we pursue."  
-Mao Tse-Tung_

Rounds whizzed by him going both ways and he took a running slide, tumbling into a trench in a breathless whump. Dental plating ground together, hissing at the pain running through his leg. "Roadbuster!" He called out a little hoarsely, vocalizer abused from all the yelling he'd been doing. "Sitrep!"

"Got another squad of 'cons coming up from the south-side," the larger 'bot said, ducking down as he spoke, cursing under his breath at the dirt that jammed up his rifle. "Small- probably no more than six, but they're bringing heavy artillery! At least one cannon and two fliers, both look strong enough to take a lot of damage- grounders just as heavily armed and armored! Probably get in range in half a cycle!" Roadbuster switched out his magazine and went back to shooting. "Sandstorm and Twin Twist have the north sector secured- seems like the Decepticons up their way are slowing down for the night! Broadside went to back up the line just south-east of here and Whirl was called for a casevac!" He paused to eye Springer for a moment. "And you're leaking all over the slagging place."

"Thanks. Didn't notice." He looked around- Roadbuster was lighting up the berm, Scoop scrunched up small, grabbing a few precious kliks of recharge and Topspin was already moving over to patch up the jagged hole in Springer's leg- went right through one of his thrusters and hurt like a glitch. He winced but didn't move as the blue and white cleaned and patched it enough to keep fighting. "Hey, Doc," he was still trying to get the air flow through his systems at a regular interval, "how you holding up?"

"Been better." Though he was still grinning, Topspin's expression was haggard and worn thin. "On the other hand, I've been a lot worse, too." They all have.

Grunting, Springer took a grenade in his hand, pulled out the safety and tossed it far into the berm. Everyone ducked their heads, but Roadbuster kept his rifle up and firing and Springer twisted up on one knee and let his own rounds go down range. The suns were going down and the firing didn't halt, but it did slow. Roadbuster confirmed that the north sector was secured and troops were being directed southward. Twin Twist was sent to the rear to transport much needed supplies along with Whirl while Sandstorm took control of the bunker. From the south came the rhythmic vibrations of heavy artillery and Topspin volunteered to head down, shoot what he could, patch up what he couldn't. Scoop came back online at the first thrum of the shell- a full recharge was alien to the Wreckers, even when they didn't have to worry about sneak attacks –and decided to go with him.

It was full dark by the time a message came up from the south saying the line was strong enough that the Decepticons wouldn't be able to break through without an entire fleet. Springer didn't believe it- he knew far too well how easily the battle could turn even with an insignificant seeming action –but he trusted his Wreckers to do what they did best: stand strong when anyone else would crumble. A hand came to his elbow somewhere in the dark and Springer shot a glance at Roadbuster who was down to his last two rifles.

"Recharge." His voice was low and gruff but Springer could hear it over the high notes of the firefight. "I got you covered." Springer wanted to object but he could feel his reserves slipping from him. Roadbuster's visor flashed with dry humor. "I'll wake you if anything interesting happens."

"Feh." But the green triplechange twisted until he was slouched in the trench, rifle clutched against his chest, torn leg stretched in front of him. "Don't go winning this battle without me." He added before shuttering his optics and falling into a state just short of unconscious.

* * *

JML - IDW Ratchet's got plenty of backbone, just hasn't had the chance to throw stuff at the injured yet XD

FloofWolfe - Beach is one of my favorite ones, really, and having Topspin rant was fun

Hellsfirescythe - My thoughts are the Wreckers are fairly self-sustained, but for anything requiring a specialist (such as, say, determining what kind of potential chemical weapon one may be dealing with) you should go to a specialist. And thank you, I like to rock out!

VAwitch - I can't actually remember who my brother and I had as kids. I just recall that they were tinys and we broke them lots. I think one of them was a Conehead...


	26. Well Shagged Wreckers

What's Wrong with a Little Destruction?  
28 Wreckers

Taken from the 28Character meme that's been popping up every now and again. Done because, well, the Wreckers are awesome in any continuity.

Note: References chapter 1: Naughty Wreckers. And yes. I am that higher power.

* * *

26. Well-Shagged Wreckers 

_"For some unknown reason, bad-boys draw you in despite the fact that they are jerks."  
-Alexis Bledel_

They stood outside the door, looking for all the world like they hoped they weren't actually supposed to be there. "Are you _sure_," Whirl asked slowly, "this is the right place?"

Broadside checked his locator, checked their position and double-checked both. "Yep."

"This can't be right." Sandstorm looked the most unhappy with this revelation, arms crossed and foot tapping. "Could it be some kind of malfunction? Mixed signal? Wrong locator?"

"Nope. That's him and he's in there."

They stayed quiet for a moment, just starring at the door.

"I stand firmly by the idea that we're mistaken."

"_The slag do you want?_" A bleary voice came upon a tight link. The three Wreckers exchanged glances.

"You're awake?"

"_Since you arrived._" Came the irritated reply. "_What is it?_"

"We, er," they exchanged glances, "got orders to move out."

"_Wonderful._" He sounded slightly less than thrilled.

"Springer?" Whirl asked slowly. "You're… really in there?"

"_Yeah._"

"All night?"

"_All night._"

"And you really…?" They could feel the smug grin over the link. "…_how_?" The chopper blurted.

"_I'm a smooth slagging operator._" There was a sated groan of stretching. "_Patch through the mission info and prep Xantium for launch. We'll bounce within a cycle._"

They still stood there, shifting uneasily even as Springer's quiet murmurs indicated him getting comfortable.

"Umm…"

"_Shouldn't you be scrambling n- hey. Morning._" Three sets of optics glanced at each other as a soft, barely audible whisper filtered over their audios. "_'S nothing, forget it. Hmm? Well- ah, nnnnryeah… that's the spot…_"

Another, distinctly not-Springer voice came on just loud enough to be heard. "_Tell your 'bots bye._"

There was a pause, a groan, then a quick, breathless, "_Make it a cycle and a half._" And then they were cut off.

Quietly they stood, still disbelieving outside of Arcee's quarters and wondered just what the pit Springer did to get back in her good graces after their prank. Sandstorm eventually threw his hands in the air and stalked off. "Alright, I'll admit it. He's got some kind of in with a greater power. Lucky son of a glitch."


	27. Playing with Kids Wreckers

What's Wrong with a Little Destruction?  
28 Wreckers

Taken from the 28Character meme that's been popping up every now and again. Done because, well, the Wreckers are awesome in any continuity.

Note: So technically this was the 28th prompt, but I felt that 27 wrapped it all up a little nicer. Also this references chapter 5: On Vacation Wreckers.

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27. Playing With Kids Wreckers 

_"Originality is the most vital of all military virtues as two thousand years of history attest."  
-B. H. Liddell Hart_

The military and their members had a very different outlook on life than those a little more reluctant to take up fully in the belief of war. This was something Optimus learned and relearned every day since becoming Prime and- not being a true military 'bot himself –had resigned himself to the fact he'll probably never not be surprised at the many different ways this becomes apparent to him. He once wondered (rhetorically) why it was their best melee fighters were also their biggest troublemakers.

To which Prowl replied, "Because the more dull the punishment, the more they remember they look forward to fighting Decepticons."

Sometimes Optimus Prime had trouble figuring out if Prowl was serious or if he actually had a sense of humor but it was too dry to really catch on to.

But it was true, somehow. The better the Autobot did under pressure, in a fight, ready to take it to the Decepticons, the more likely they were to be restless and… well, creative.

Springer just looked up at him in a mild surprise. "What do you mean?" He asked, as if the scene before them were as natural as transforming. "They're just jousting." Prime had also learned very quickly that wherever the Wreckers went, chaos always happened. And when, outside of battle, the Wreckers decided to have fun, every other troubleseeking Autobot automatically sought them out. Right now the large commander had his optics glued to the scene inside the hangar deck.

They _were_ jousting. There were a lot of beams that Preceptor said needed to be replaced so instead of just setting them aside to be melted down, the Wreckers decided to put them to a last minute use and were jousting. Except they also had an industrial roller suspended about a quarter way off the floor so when the two on either end charged at each other, they also had to worry about being rolled right into the deck. Optimus Prime visibly winced as Whirl caught Roadbuster in the side and the larger mech hit the ground on his shoulders and back. The audience cheered- Whirl, their current champion (which many grumbled was an unfair advantage from his alt mode) egging them on with great sweeps of his arms.

If Optimus Prime didn't know better, he'd swear idle Wreckers caused more damage than when they were on the battlefield. Another 'bot scrambled for the right to joust next, standing opposite the white aerial mech. Prime stifled a sigh in his fans but Springer still caught it.

"You did say we needed to relax." The green triplechanger said with a knowing note in his vocalizer. "Gave us forced vacation time and everything. 'Course, we wanted to stay nearby- just in case you ended up needing us before we returned to duty." The smile he gave Optimus Prime was very deliberate. "A wise decision, don't you think?"

Optimus Prime nodded stiffly. "Carry on." Came the vague rumble and he just as stiffly turned and walked out as yet another body clanged painfully amidst the roars of encouragement. Exiting from the hangar bay he went straight to the command center to find the biggest current Decepticon threat.

Sometimes, Optimus learned, running a military was like running a daycare.


	28. Kick Ass Wreckers

What's Wrong with a Little Destruction?  
28 Wreckers

Taken from the 28Character meme that's been popping up every now and again. Done because, well, the Wreckers are awesome in any continuity.

Note: Each story is taken from actual Medal of Honor citations of which only the last one was given posthumously. Even the greatest have those they honor.

* * *

28. Kick Ass Wreckers

_"Follow me if I advance, kill me if I retreat, avenge me if I die."  
-Mary Matalin_

The Autobot Orbital Command Hub was- as it's name hinted –where every Autobot would go after a mission to await new orders. It was always bustling with bodies and talk, laughter and gossip and old friends meeting up once again. That's where Tailgate found two close friends after so many countless cycles unable to contact with either of them.

"Pipes! Seaspray!"

The two looked up curiously, then broke out in wide smiles (or as close as possible). "Tailgate! Man- when was the last time I saw _you_?"

"Have a seat!" Pipes pulled a seat out for his fellow mini-bot. "So what special part of the Inferno did you just come from?"

"Industrial planet." Tailgate swiped Seaspray's energon. The marine 'bot squawked and tried to nab it back, got denied and grumbled as he went to get himself another container. "Fluxus. Hated the place. Just about everything there was an abomination of mechanisms and just about anything they could merge them together with."

Pipes and Seaspray (as he returned) exchanged glances and wondered who was fool enough to put such an ardent mechanical liberator on a planet like that. "Anyway," the scout continued with a wave of his hand, "when the Decepticons kicked off their Seige Mode proper, we got seriously slagged. Within a couple mega-cycles our entire command element was dead, missing or too battered to make any kind of decision. Ended up getting the Wreckers called out there and they broke us down into groups- each one under a Wrecker's command." Tailgate paused for a moment, considering. "You know- everyone always says to watch out for Sandstorm, right? That he's a nut and a prankster and impulsive and all that, right? He was actually… well, he really looked out for us.

"See, my group was supposed to protect a vulnerable point in our supply line- one of those paths that left only one way to get it deals. Anyway, the Decepticons must've been crazy or something because they come at us in the middle of an _electrical_ storm of all Primus slagging things and within a few cycles about half of us are half-dead wounded and we're completely surrounded." Tailgate shook his head, still amazed even as he speaks. "But Sandstorm refused to give in. The next group over tried to get to us but the storm and the Decepticons kept pushing them back. We probably would've been able to regroup if we tried to fight our way through to them but if we left our position it would've given the Decepticons a straight run to our command center where all our wounded were at." He paused, mouthplate sliding back so he could drink. "Sandstorm gets hit early on- tore up on his right so bad he couldn't use his arm for nothing but he still fought like no one's business and he's running up and down the line, encouraging us, ordering us, putting down fire wherever he's needed. Saw him stop and patch up a couple 'bots, too. The whole thing lasted- I'm not joking –five whole planetary days. Sandstorm ended up getting wounded enough he had a 'bot that got blinded in the fight to help keep him moving over the line. I mean- I have no idea how this 'bot kept us going like he did. He even found the time to sit with Hightail and turn him into a crackshot- like he was an instructor on the range or something!" The scout shook his head, stunned at his own story. "Never saw anything like it. By the time support came, I thought I was lucky to have gotten off as easy as I did. Turns out an explosion actually took out the motor connection to my legs and I didn't even notice. Sandstorm kept us all focused on the fight- it was just… amazing."

Pipes held up a hand. "You want a Wreckers story? I got one for ya." He paused to gather his thoughts. "Alright, so my squad gets pinned down in some old bunkers we were setting for demolitions. From out of nowhere- I mean, I didn't even know they were _on_ the planet –we get four Wreckers: Broadside, Sandstorm and Whirl coming in on air support and Scoop jumps off one of them and gets us organized for a mad rush out of there. Now the Decepticons made themselves at home in the other bunkers so they're pretty dug in, stopping any attempt to retreat. So Scoop runs at the closest one, tosses in a grenade and barely waits for it to explode before he jumps in after and shoots anything that isn't already dead. The other 'cons see this and start lobbing their own grenades at him and- hand to Primus –he catches every one they toss and sends them right back." Pipes was more intense with his story, hands dancing as he wove the scene out. "One of the Decepticon jets fires a couple heat seekers at him, so Scoop lights up a flare and tosses it at another bunker- the missiles follow right after it, parts _every_ where! By that time the rest of us snap out of just sitting there completely _amazed_ and charge at whatever's left- taking over a mortar position, a repeat cannon position. Instead of getting room for _us_ to retreat, we send those robot-chickens packing with a major hurt in the skidplate." He sat back, large grin evident in his optics. "Watching those 'bots fight- makes you think nothing can hurt you, you know?"

The sight of Seaspray shaking his head grabs his two companions' attention. "You think the way they inspire a battle is something- have you seen their _medic_ in action? And I'm not talking about in a fight, either." From the curious looks it seemed to Seaspray it was his turn to tell a little tale. "Aliat- in case you don't know –is predominantly a water planet. Landforms aren't very large and tend to be a series of archipelagos if anything. We were on this one long stretch of island arcs, trying to stop the Decepticons from destroying the tectonic plates in the seabed trying to drill for a fuel source. Of course the Decepticons aren't happy with that so they send a frag load of grunts out to stop us. My end got hit heavy, 'bots decimated all around me and being on the extreme end with the most water between us and the next island I was certain we were all as good as slagged so I'm just shooting at anything, waiting for something to do me in. Then I got someone tugging me down and Topspin is there- I was for sure the Wreckers were on another island but nope. There he was, telling me to get to cover and he goes crawling off to patch up some poor 'bot right out in the open. He gets shot- right through the arm –but he doesn't move, keeps clamping down on busted fuel lines and I see Beachcomber getting up to cover him and I jump up to help."

Unlike the other two, Seaspray's body shivers slightly at the retelling of the nightmare he was forced to live through. "You hear 'Wrecker' and you think 'devastation', you think 'mayhem'. Except that entire time, Topspin never once fired his weapons- just went from one 'bot to another, fixing everyone he could- hell, he gave _away_ his weapons to others when they ran out of ammo or lost theirs. He kept getting shot, but he never once stopped. I saw a missile blow through someone and the shrapnel ripped his chestplate apart and he kept going. Wouldn't let anyone tend to him- kept pushing them away saying fight or help someone that can. Beachcomber and I kept up with him best we could. Comber was even carrying him for a bit until his leg got shot out from under him and Topspin just flipped him on his back, welded the wound, propped him up and told him to fire at anything that wasn't one of them. And he kept right back, dragging himself to the injured." Lapsing quiet, his fan stuttered slightly, trying to shake him from the memory. "I never saw anything so brave and selfless in my life. You hear all these unbelievable stories about the Wreckers but actually seeing them before your optics- the way they just dominate, the way they're so relentless and single-minded, how they'll let nothing stop them is…"

"Insane?" Asked Tailgate.

"Unreal?" Added Pipes.

Seaspray looked at them both. "Beyond words."

"You think those guys are amazing, you haven't heard anything yet."

The three mini-bots looked up in surprise and gaped as the new speaker spun a chair around and straddled it backwards. "_Springer_? Wh-What are you doing here?"

He just waved off the question. "This is story time, right? I got a great one- happened on our last mission, actually." The other three exchanged glances but nodded for him to continue. "We were planetside on Hormesis- Decepticons launching a pretty fair offensive but the planet's natural radiation was just a touch too strong for prolonged exposure. Of course we all had rad-armor, but once that's been compromised it's just a matter of time before stasis lock. The Decepticons managed to get a series of towers set up that could generate an anti-radiation forcefield so they would be shredding us with anything that fragged and still sit comfy in their bunkers." He chuckled and sipped at his energon while his audience watched him with wide optics. "The Wreckers volunteered to spearhead a direct assault- decoy, really –so a strike team could sneak around and blow up the generators. It was us and about a platoon of other volunteers sitting on top of a ridge, trying to survive against a swarm of 'cons.

"I ended up pinned in a ditch with five others, one locked up when his armor got shredded and Twin Twist was fast following him- jumped on a grenade that tumbled in with us, contained the blast, nearly took him out if it weren't for the extra protection from the rad-armor." Gray fingers- scratched and dirtied –rubbed over the container. "Next to me was a mini-bot jet called Sliceback. Barely older than a fledgling, really. Scared as slag to be there, but he kept toughing it out, kept tight to my side and did any little thing I told him without question. Out of all of us in the ditch, he was the least wounded and he knew he could've run off, joined back up with the rest of the platoon or just ran period. But he stayed and he fought. I caught a round. Right here," Springer tilted his head to one side and they could see the gleam of a recent patch where his armor met his neck, "from a scattergun. Could barely move. Sliceback hunkered over me, trying to staunch the flow and hollering for a medic so hard I thought his vocalizer was gonna short. Systems were failing too fast and he could see it, could tell every medic was pinned- couldn't come even if they wanted to. So he made sure the clamps he did would hold, looked me right in the optics and said, 'It was an honor to serve with you, sir'. Then he transformed and took off."

There was a catch of air cycling. "What happened?" Pipes asked in a hush.

"They shot him down. Did a tailspin right in to the middle of the 'cons and… everything blew up. Even with a full tank and missile bays he couldn't have made that big of an explosion on his own and I realized the last of my grenades were missing. The 'bot took out about a quarter of the Decepticons on that hill with him. Everyone was stunned, no one really knew what happened and I told them, 'Autobots- no one lays a hand on that body but us'. And everyone that could- any way they could –swept down that hill like the rage of Primus, plowing down anything that stood in their way. The strongest Decepticon line on that planet and they broke rank, ran from Autobots half their number and on the verge of stasis lock. We captured eight Decepticons on that hill and pushed them halfway back to their own base before their generators even went down. Just completely scattered."

In the silence Seaspray said, "Wow."

"Did you get Sliceback's body?"

"I offlined after my last order. When I came back on, Roadbuster told me the rest of the Wreckers refused to let anyone else escort Sliceback's body back here. Optimus Prime approved our request to lead his vigil." That made the mini-bots jolt slightly. With the high rate of death vigils rarely were held for a single body and were lead by the commanding officer or an appointed official. For them to actually request for it…

"Sliceback was a good friend of yours, huh?" Tailgate asked slowly.

"Nope. Never heard of him until that day." Springer gave them a small smile. "We're Wreckers. Our main job is to go in and save as many lives as we can. Killing Decepticons- that's collateral. We get sent to every hopeless situation to bring back as many 'bots as possible, even at the cost of ourselves. We know that's our mission and we accept it. To us, every life we protect is just us doing our duty. There's plenty of 'bots out there willing to have our backs, but not many that will take a bullet for us. That's supposed to be what we do." He paused and drank, the smooth liquid soothing in his system. "Even less willing to go on a suicide run to save everyone. That kind of selflessness can't be found in just anyone- not even among the Wreckers. He deserves every honor we can give him." His story finished, Springer pushed away from the table. "Gentlebots." He said in farewell.

"Hey- Springer," Pipes blurted out. "Is… is the vigil today?"

"Yeah. After the third shift."

"I'm gonna be there."

The other two nodded. "Me, too!"

"Same here."

Springer's small smile grew. "We'd be glad to have you."

* * *

Thank you everyone that kept up and reviewed! I hope you all enjoyed it (and maybe were introduced to the greatness that is the wreckers) and... well, I could possibly be persuaded to do some more drabbles if I were given a prompt or several D 


	29. Request: Combaticons and Wreckers

What's Wrong with a Little Destruction?  
The Wreckers

The continuing awesomeness of IDW's top strikeforce!

Note: For FloofWolfe who asked for Combaticons interacting with the Wreckers. Requests are still open for the taken and since I was asked, the only thing that really squicks me is incest. Most everything else I'm good for.

* * *

Request: Combaticons and Wreckers 

_"Cards are war, in disguise of a sport."  
-Charles Lamb_

"I'll see that…" there was a pause as energon chips clinked together, "and raise you four."

Topspin shook his head. "Too rich for me- I'm out." He stood from the table and asked, "Anyone else wanna top off?"

"Sure thing."

"'M good."

"Here- thanks."

The other six shifted comfortably, considering their positions. Scoop's mouth twisted in a contemplative line, but he finally tossed in his hand. "Nah. Fold."

Swindle chuckled, swirling his energon container. "I thought you Wreckers were supposed to be risk takers! Where's your sense of adventure?"

"Went on vacation when you won that 500 pot." Springer snorted back. "Blast Off?"

The orbiter's optics flickered to his cards briefly- just enough for the remaining Wreckers to know he had little faith in his hand. "I'm in." More energon chips clinked.

And again as Broadside added his own. "Same."

Of all the things they've done that would warrant being stripped alive of all their components, this would probably be the thing that would get both groups dipped in corrosives for eternity. It's not that they were friends, the Combaticons and Wreckers. They were military, they were soldiers. They fought battles and killed enemies and devastated those that stood in the way of their goals. They did an awful fragging lot of it and well, sometimes it was nice to _not_. Sometimes it was nice to sit down with others that thought on the same basic wavelength and go a few rounds of cards. No aggression, no violence, just fun.

There were no questions about plans or mission and no attempts to pry or sabotage. The only thing related to business was the gambling of energon chips and maybe a couple nice items Swindle knew were on the market. They weren't traitors, they weren't friends, they were just there.

Topspin came back with the drinks and Onslaught nodded in thanks. "This is good stuff."

"Got the recipe from the twins. I think their goal in life is to make an entire datapad worth of high-grade variations."

"We need a copy." Blast Off said with his fingers tapping the cards. "I like the subtle flavor in this particular batch."

"Whirl can pass 'em off to you. He's our resident mixer."

"Speaking of which," Springer said as Onslaught met the pool and raised three, "what're the others up to?"

The medic shrugged with a sly grin. "Oh, the usual. Whirl and Vortex are tormenting Brawl, Roadbuster's trying to keep resulting damage to a minimum and Sandy and Twist are just laughing their afts off."

Swindle snickered into his drink. "Those two… swear to Primus they were separated at their sparking."

More snorts went up. "I wouldn't be surprised." Any other conversation was drowned out by the blare of the proximity alert. "Slag- someone's coming. Show 'em."

"Two high pairs."

"Three femmes."

"Low house."

"Junk."

"High straight."

The Wreckers huffed. "Damn," Springer looked pained as Onslaught pulled in his winnings. "So much for doing anything for leave."

The Combaticon leader glanced up with amused optics. "Try catching us on a bad day."

"If you're still in range by the time whoever's coming up scans us, it'll be one."

Topspin went over to Xantium's comm. "Playtime's over, fledglings! Time for Vortex and Brawl to go home."

The other three made their way toward the hangars with vague waves of their hands. "See you on the field, Autobots."

"Looking forward to it, Decepticons."

* * *

FloofWolfe: Hope this worked for you! 

Kyarorin: I'm glad my updates made you happy As you can see I'm still spreading the love!

Hellsfirescythe: Thank you for the new 28 list! I'm already getting to work on it!


	30. Falling Down Wreckers

What's Wrong with a Little Destruction?  
The Wreckers

The continuing awesomeness of IDW's top strikeforce!

Note: Special thanks to Hellsfirescythe for finding me a new list of 28 prompts! And think about it- they're jets. They get shot down. I'm sure they're not at all surprised by it by now.

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1. Falling Down Wreckers

_"And wow! Hey! What's this thing suddenly coming toward me very fast? Very, very fast. So big and flat and round, it needs a big wide-sounding name like… ow… ound… round… ground! That's it! That's a good name- ground! I wonder if it will be friends with me?"  
-Douglas Adams_

Idly Scoop wondered if he should be, oh, he didn't know- say freaking out? Probably going 'HELP!' or 'AAARGH!' or something. Something other than 'Wow, I'm going pretty damn fast', anyway.

It was actually kind of sad, he thought, how this came about. Another Phase Six Decepticon presence that the Wreckers were called in to deal with and they had managed to get inside the bunker and caused much rampant destruction to the place when Scoop managed to get himself blown out the side. Of course not the side with the ground a lot closer than terminal velocity, but the other way where he got a nice view of the cliffside as he went down. He supposed it was only fitting for a 'bot who dug pits in the ground to be messily smeared by it.

"Yo, Scoop!"

He looked back toward the sky and found Sandstorm closing in on him. "Hi." He radioed back.

"Didn't know you got a flying license. You're doing it wrong, by the way."

"Why don't you come over here and say that? No, seriously- I need to grab hold of you so I don't die."

The triplechanger sped up and moved in closer enough for Scoop to reach out to him. "I'm sure there's an interesting story behind this."

"Can't tell you if I'm dead."

"Hang on tight!" Sandstorm's wings flexed, deflecting air until the flow curved his flight, slingshoting them upwards. The g-forces nearly wrenched Scoop's grip and he knew already he'd be owing Sandstorm a long buffing to get out the hand-shaped dents out of him. The additional drag and weight took a moment for Sandstorm to compensate for and by then they were spotted by some of the Decepticons' planetside allies, anti-air missiles flying toward them.

"Slagging Pit." Sandstorm said, knowing he couldn't dodge them all without running the risk of tossing Scoop. Between the two of them they managed to blast a few but two caught Sandstorm head on- one against his port wing, the other in the underbelly, sending them spiraling downwards once more.

"Che! Port stabilizer's out." The flier grumbled before opening up a channel. "Hey, Broadside- me and Scoop need some help!"

"Where are you?"

"Rapidly running out of cliffside."

There was a pause. "What- again?"

"Just get here and whine later." He cut off the link and twisted around so his body could displace as much air as possible. Scoop did the same.

"So," the digger said conversationally, "this happen a lot?"

Even if Sandstorm had shame enough to know what sheepish meant, he wouldn't have looked it and said as natural as anything, "More than you'd think."

* * *

FloofWolfe: Aw, my pleasure! It's been my experience that military has the ability to get along with most people (on the individual level). I don't know why, but they seem to do it. And... thanks. That just put ideas in my head. 


	31. Blind Wreckers

What's Wrong with a Little Destruction?  
The Wreckers

The continuing awesomeness of IDW's top strikeforce!

Note: So my next attempt will be to put up one drabble a day. We'll see how long that lasts.

* * *

2. Blind Wreckers 

_"All of us are born with a set of instinctive fears- of falling, of the dark, of lobsters, of falling on lobsters in the dark, or speaking before a Rotary Club, and of the words 'Some Assembly Required'."  
-Dave Barry_

"Roadbuster- it's okay."

"No."

"It's alright, really. C'mon, reactive your optics."

"No."

The other Wreckers exchanged harried glances. "Roadbuster, seriously. It's over. Everything's okay, it's all fine now."

"No." His vocalizer got harder and a little high at the end. "Primus- _it's still there_!"

"It's not-"

"It _is_! It's burned into my fragging _optics_! I can't get it out!"

With a gesture from Springer, Whirl and Sandstorm wrestled Roadbuster's hands from his face while Broadside pinned him in place by the shoulders. Sure enough the large mech's visor was grayed out, offline. "Roadbuster- if you don't turn your optics back on, I'll have Topspin do it."

His head came up to face the general direction of the green triplechanger. "You wouldn't-" he cut himself off, knowing better. "No."

"Topspin."

The medic gave a mock salute. "On it!"

Then Roadbuster started struggling. "NO! Keep away from me, you quack!"

Topspin's optics flared. "_Quack_? I'll quack you upside your-"

"_Enough_!" Springer snapped. "Roadbuster- for Primus' sake it was a _movie_! I personally guarantee- under threat of painful and prolonged death –that organics do _not_ blow up like that and if they _did_ they would not crawl inside a gap in your armor and muck up your internals with their goopy entrails!"

Several more optics drained in color and Twin Twist turned away with a hand to his faceplate. "Did ya really havta remind me of that scene? I don't think I can sleep for a mega-cycle now."

The look he gave his team was shocked, was incredulous, was, "What the slag- you're _Wreckers_! You take apart entire brigades of Decepticons with your bare hands! What is so slagging frightening about beings that barely go up to your _ankles_?"

The look they gave him was questioning his sanity. "They're walking meat waiting to decompose and rot. What part of that _isn't_ frightening?"

* * *

FloofWolfe: Actually my policy for requests tends to be one request per person at a time. So once I get your next request up you can put in another one. Just to keep me from being too overwhelmed :P 

Okami-chan: Yeah, you see what I did there? Sneaky like the ninja I am XD And I'm glad others are supporting my want to play around with these guys some more!

Ronin Elf: Thank you! Hope you continue to enjoy them!


	32. Daydreaming Wreckers

What's Wrong with a Little Destruction?  
The Wreckers

The continuing awesomeness of IDW's top strikeforce!

Note: In Megatron: Origin 1, Megatron and other energon miners started a mini-revolt which eventually got them into the mindset of a social coupe (to put it shortly). In Origin 2, Roadbuster and Whirl are in the top row during Prowl's briefing next to Blades.

* * *

3. Daydreaming Wreckers

_"The human race has had long experience and a fine tradition in surviving adversity. But we now face a task for which we have little experience, the task of surviving prosperity."  
-Alan Gregg_

They were being shuttled out of orbit, already briefed on the situation and what needed to be done, leaving the Wreckers more than enough time to catch a bit of recharge, double-check their gear, talk and all-round wait. Suddenly Scoop asked the question- "What would you guys be doing if we weren't Wreckers?"

Topspin- who was the first to catch his optics –almost looked uncomfortable at the idea. "Dunno. Probably ended up being a full-fledge medic and get stuck with some detachment or field hospital. Woulda gotten bored outta my processor and probably get kicked out for malpractice just to keep me entertained."

"Homeless." Twin Twist replied. "Or dead. Miners aren't exactly well liked anymore if you recall. Not like we weren't being phased out to begin with."

"I'd probably have to go with the dead thing." Sandstorm agreed.

The driller smirked at him. "Or incarcerated."

"Which would probably end up with me dead somehow anyway."

After getting an elbow into his side, Whirl looked up. "Hm? Oh, I woulda been a Decepticon."

That got laughter except from Scoop who glared. "Yeah right! You were a ranked officer in the Security Force before the war!"

"Yup. And I would've found a way to participate in the deathmatches if Prowl hadn't kept close tabs on us at the time."

"C'mon, can't you guys take this seriously?" Scoop turned to Broadside with a pout. "What about you?"

Massive shoulders shrugged. "Go crazy."

"Aargh!" Scoop's hands were tossed into the air. "You're hopeless! Haven't any of you considered what you'd do after the war is over?"

Amused glances were exchanged. "Alright," they asked, "so what would you do if we won?"

Beaming he said, "Easy! I'd join an exploration team! Think about it- going to investigate planets no one else has set foot on, exploring the galaxies for anything and everything, going out to face the unknown… Kinda like what we do now but without the blowing up everything we see part."

A large hand dropped on Scoop's head and Broadside gave him a gentle shake, optic visor fond. "That works out for you, let me know. I may get in on that." Scoop grinned widely up at him.

Springer and Roadbuster came down out of the cockpit, the leader giving out orders before he even reached them. "Alright, 'bots- cycle yourselves outta sleep mode. We got ten kliks before we reach our destination. We'll be repelling on the outskirts of the tundra- no flight, don't want to risk leaving a blatant heat signature when we land. We have a quarter mega-cycle to reach and clear that LZ. The route's hot, so stay frosty and keep alert. Gear check then form up at the rear hatch."

"Hey, Springer, Roadbuster!" Scoop couldn't help blurting out. "What are you two going to do after the war?"

They looked at him blankly, then at each other, then shrugged. "Dunno."

That boggled the digger's processor- the two 'bots that have a contingency plan for everything (even if they make it up as they go on occasions) didn't know what they'd do after the fighting was over? "What- you just never thought about it?"

Roadbuster snorted and kept checking all his weapons. Springer gave Scoop a rueful look. "We don't expect to survive this war." He raised is voice to address the others as he checked his own systems. "Let's get moving."

* * *

FloofWolfe: But your ideas always gives _me_ ideas and they don't like leaving me alone XD

JML and Tiamat1972: Oh yeah. When they put it that way, I'd be afraid of us, too!

Hellsfirscythe: Thanks to you!

VAWitch: Everyone has some kinda of weakness And hmmmmm... Kup should fun...


	33. Request: Seekers and Wreckers

What's Wrong with a Little Destruction?  
The Wreckers

The continuing awesomeness of IDW's top strikeforce!

Note: For FloofWolfe who (sort of) asked for Seekers interacting with the Wreckers. I'm assuming the Tyrest Accord is fairly similar to the Geneva Convention in which is dictates various procedures of war, treatment, weaponry, etc.

* * *

Request: Seekers and Wreckers

_"A prisoner of war is a man who tries to kill you and fails, and then asks you not to kill him."  
-Winston Churchill_

Roadbuster hadn't even waited until they were out of the holding cells before he started ranting. Springer would've been impressed that someone had gotten him this agitated if it weren't for the fact that this incident was going to cause himself problems.

"I can't take it! How is he even still alive? How is it _no one_ has killed him yet? He's so fragging annoying and aggravating I was one nano-klik from stuffing a datapad down his throat!"

Springer gave him a long look in return. "The Tyrest Accord, Roadbuster. No abusing unarmed prisoners of war."

"He's not unarmed until we pull out his vocalizer!"

"No."

The larger mech threw his hands in the air. "We shut off Skywarp's optics and set up scramblers around him! We put up frequency and audio dampers all around Thundercracker! Why can't we do that?"

"Because those are necessary preventions against their specific abilities. If Skywarp could see or scan, he could warp. If Thundercracker got his harmonics going, he could break out. Starscream doesn't require any additional security measures than what he's already got."

"Yes he does."

"On what grounds?"

"The grounds that if I have to watch him for another shift, someone is going to be brutally mutilated and it won't be me."

"Roadbuster-"

"I'm serious." He spread his hands. "For an entire shift- _all_ of it –all he did was complain. He complained about me, about the damage we did to him, about the Wreckers, about the cell, about separating the trine- Springer, he complained about the _quality of light_! Can't we put him in a vacuum so we don't have to hear him at least?"

Springer's patience was thinning rapidly. "_No_, Roadbuster. We're required by the Accord to deal with any actual needs a prisoner has should they arise. We can't do that if we can't communicate with him."

"Fine. Whatever. But I'm not dealing with him again."

"For the love of- alright! I'll take over guarding him!" Thoroughly annoyed, Springer stalked off. Roadbuster just called after him:

"I guarantee you won't last the shift!"

"Frag off!"

* * *

"_Roadbuster!_" Topspin called over the comm. "_We got a situation in the holding cells!_"

There was shouting in the background, just loud enough to make out. "_Annoying fragging whiney little glitch! What the hell is wrong with you!? Shut up! _Just shut the frag up_ for _once_ in your irritating life!_"

"_Springer- calm down, alright? Hold him down!_"

"_Shut up- this isn't easy!_"

"This_ is how you so-terribly honorable Autobots treat your prisoners? With abuse and assault!? I'm sure your dear Prime would _love_ to hear how you-_"

"_ARGH! I'VE HAD IT!_"

"_Stop!_"

"_Put that down!_"

Roadbuster cradled his head at the garbled shouting. "Is he trying to stuff a datapad down Starscream's throat?"

Topspin's voice was a little uneven. "_Um, yes._"

"I'll be right down." Primus- he wondered if they were going to have to pay Megatron to take his air commander back.

* * *

Zosocrowe: The Wreckers and Megatron? The WOULD be interesting... And I'm a big sucker from camaraderie, what can I say?

Pyro Falkon: Thank you! I'm all about spreading the Wrecker love! Scoop is totally adorable, I don't know how that happenedXD

FloofWolfe: They'd totally argue about what parts being severed would and wouldn't kill a mech, I'll bet you.


	34. Cuddling Wreckers

What's Wrong with a Little Destruction?  
The Wreckers

The continuing awesomeness of IDW's top strikeforce!

Note: This is all, of course, speculation on my part.

* * *

4. Cuddling Wreckers

_"Kindness is more than deeds. It is an attitude, an expression, a look, a touch. It is anything that lifts another person."  
-C. Neil Strait_

The door to Xantium's bridge opened and Twin Twist shambled in. Roadbuster and Whirl- already on duty –were a little surprised to see him. He was slotted with communication duty with them but they hadn't actually expected him to show up with how well he wasn't taking to the new upgrade.

Roadbuster regarded him with a certain amount of concern. "You gonna be okay?"

"Oh yeah. I'm all over it." Twin Twist all but fell into the seat at the comm station.

"Just so long as by 'all over it' you're not including half-processed fuel this time."

"Slag off." Came the weary reply, followed by an attempted glare directed at Whirl. "I said I was sorr-" He cut himself off when Roadbuster suddenly sat right next to him. Like- _right_ next to. "Wha-"

"Springer left composing our report for me to do." Came the curt answer. "Don't mine me."

Which- after so many years knowing each other's needs and weaknesses –Twin Twist knew meant 'lean on me if you need to'. Twin Twist was created to drill in mines and miners as a whole didn't have much need for anything like personal space. Not when they had to spend most their time with dozens of others, usually deep inside some dark, confined tunnel. Miners usually were very tactile because of it and preferred to be around groups of others if they could. Wide open spaces made them uncomfortable, isolation was their fear.

Twin Twist spent more time recharging in someone else's quarters than in his own berth, needing another's presence to lull him to suspension. Touch calmed him, eased him when he was hurt and it was something the rest of the Wreckers had come to accept. Even Whirl who- being an aerial mech and doubly so as a rotary-type –tended to be more particular about his personal space.

And like most miners Twin Twist didn't upgrade particularly well, especially given how his current profession meshed with his original programming. As a driller he was created to be perfectly suited for long periods of time in the dark, small and deep beneath the surface. Battle, protocol and initiative upgrades were about open spaces and isolated ambushes and it left Twin Twist reeling and working at a fraction of his capacity until the two aspects of him found a way to unify.

It left Twin Twist needing to be around and touching others desperately so he pressed gratefully against Roadbuster's side and slouched deeper into his seat. "Thanks." Suddenly something plopped down on his other side and made him start. "Whirl?"

Whirl didn't look up, just rerouted the navigation charts and scanners to the console in front of him. "What?"

The feel of both 'bots against either side of him eased the throb of his circuits from a pound to a pulse. "Nothing." He smiled to himself and Roadbuster's engine vibrated soothingly and Whirl sprawled out with an arm slung over Twin Twist's shoulder. In that familiar press, Twin Twist felt almost back on his game before the end of the cycle.

* * *

FloofWolfe: It's hard to tell if Starscream is so obnoxious on purpose or if he really doesn't know when to stop XD

Okami-chan: I'm a sucker for details :P

Tennis Tigress: Heeheehee, the twins are also fun to mess with, I'll admit! I've already got a couple ideas kicking around with them and I am kinda intrigue with how I can work that triangle...


	35. Request: Vortex and Springer

What's Wrong with a Little Destruction?  
The Wreckers

The continuing awesomeness of IDW's top strikeforce!

Note: Requested by FloofWolfe, only slightly slashy, I'm afraid. And funny you mentioned not knowing where Springer's rotary assembly went… Also, more speculation on mechanics.

* * *

Request: Vortex and Springer 

_"The man who melts with social sympathy, though not allied, is more worth than a thousand kinsmen."  
-Euripides_

Let it not be said that fliers can avoid every major problems that occur at the ground level. Case in point- a flash flood. Which would've easily been bypassed if turbulence hadn't battered every one out of the air. Springer didn't know how far the flood swept him, scanners fritzing from the impromptu and very much not-bath. He groaned and someone else groaned in answer. From his current position half buried in mud all he could see was the tip of a propeller blade. "Whirl?"

"No."

"…Vortex?"

The Decepticon- very slowly and very carefully –transformed, wincing. "I hoped not because I am seriously hurting right now." Vents opened up and Vortex expelled sludge from his body. "Gross."

"Are your scanners working?"

Vortex looked at the Autobot sharply. Then his optics glowed in amusement. "You didn't have time to activate air seals either, huh?"

"Yeah- not like anyone saw that one coming." Springer transformed just as gingerly. Something didn't feel right.

"Tell me about it."

Suddenly both had their rifles up. Or rather Vortex had his up. Springer somehow managed to lose his (which he'd never hear the end of once he regrouped with the other Wreckers) and had both arm blasters aimed at the Combaticon. That made Vortex laugh. "You think those are going to win over this thing?" He asked, shrugging his weapon.

"No. But it'll still knock you on aft and I'm okay with that."

"You know they probably won't even work with all this crud jammed in."

"Probably."

There were three subtle clicks, followed by a lot of oozing mud.

"Slag."

"Figures."

Weapons lowered and they sighed. "Guess we'll have to wait until our sensors recalibrate to figure out just where we-," Springer cut himself off, odd look on his face. That actually made Vortex a little nervous.

"What is it?"

"…I think I'm stuck."

There was a pause. "You're what?"

"Stuck."

"Can't you pull free?"

Springer glared. "If I could 'pull free' then I wouldn't be stuck, now would I?" Besides," his tone took on a slightly more… embarrassed note, "it's snagged on my rotary assembly."

The other mech actually winced. "Ow." He feet sloshed in the mud and water to where Springer was crouched. "Hang on, lemme take a look." He circled the triplechanger contemplatively and saw dark cords beneath the water's surface that lead from the mud to under Springer's cockpit. "Huh." Vortex said idly. "So that's where your rotor goes."

"Can you get me out or what?"

"Hang on, hang on." He ran a hand along the cords and realized two things: they were taut and they were very strong. And, after running fingers over the edge, they had a more than passing resemblance to insanely strong saw grass. He hissed, "Are these things cutting into you?"

"Yes!" A note of snappish pain was obvious in Springer's vocalizer.

Vortex tugged carefully at the root but it wouldn't pull out. He tried to dig it out but sludge kept shifting back in. Finally he took the tail rotor on his arm and sawed through them, suppressing a grimace as he noticed the scratches they were giving the blades. "Alright, there you go."

Springer flexed his back, wincing a bit. "Thanks."

"C'mere." The Combaticon took Springer by the arm, leading him toward a soggy half-boulder. "Lean over."

"What? Why?"

"Because I can't see how bad it is unless I look under your cockpit."

Springer had to cycle through that last sentence again to make sure he processed it right. "Uh… okay." With more than slight hesitance he turned and- with Vortex guiding him –bent until the other helo could peer under the canopy. "So?"

"That's really clogged." Vortex magnified his optics and reached in as best he could. "Must've got all twisted up when you transformed. Probably have to remove bits of your armor to get it all out."

"Perfect."

"I'll try to clear out what I can, but don't expect me to get it all." Like all Transformers, Vortex was equipped with the standard issue hand variant which included a tweezer-like appendage to extend from his two index fingers. It was long, tedious work but the only sounds he made was either a thoughtful hum or telling Springer to shift a certain way.

Really, it was a good thing Springer got stuck with another helo- someone that knew intimately well just how sensitive one's rotary assembly was. Probably the only other major and widespread component as sensitive as rotors were the jets' turbofans. They had to be sensitive, asides from being made up of so many little and intricate parts they sensed and analyzed the airflow going through them- literally allowing the crafts to read the air flow which allowed them to fly like no other beings could.

And it was that same sensitivity that made little involuntary shivers run through Springer's frame as Vortex's fingers (as they were still considered, more or less, to be his fingers) occasionally brushed the assembly proper. A piece of grass was half buried where the pitch control ring met the swashplate and when Vortex eased the tweezers into that small gap Springer couldn't help the shallow gasp the touch drew out. After a few more fruitless endeavors in trying to pry out the flora the Combaticon decided to forgo it and, instead, couldn't help the interrogator inside himself from wanting to find how great a weakness this was for the Wrecker.

Certainly was a good call to have it hidden away when he transformed, Vortex thought to himself. He slid the edge of his finger against the stationary ring and heard a groan being bit back, felt Springer arc slightly against the touch. "I always did wonder," he said with a little purr in his vocalizer, enjoying the control he had over the triplechanger (for once), "where your assembly went to, you know. Do your blades fold up? I've never seen that before."

Springer turned his head enough to give Vortex a one-optic glare. "You keep that up and you're going to find out just how much force my leg thrusters can generate."

Vortex looked at him, then down to where one of Springer's legs was raised and uncomfortably close to his midsection. Slowly he pulled his hands out from under the canopy and held them free. In return Springer lowered his leg and stood up. "Touchy." He said with a grin beneath his facemask.

"You certainly were." Again Springer flexed his back and felt more movement, not yet confident enough to transform again. "Thanks for before that, though."

"Sure thing." Vortex did a quick recheck of his systems. "Your self-repair fix up your sensors?"

"Yeah. You?"

"Yup. I'll probably get an audio-full from Onslaught about it. Because it was obviously all my fault I got swept away like that."

"Good luck with that. I don't even trust transforming into ground mode with this slag still in me." Springer grimaced, looking off in the direction he read the other Autobots were regrouping at. "Looks like I've got me a good walk back.

Vortex snickered and (after taking a quick look to ensure he didn't snag on to anything himself) leapt back into the air and transformed. "You enjoy yourself. Hey- think we can get another card game going after this?"

The edge of Springer's lips quirked into a grin. "We'll see how this battle goes first. Catch you on the field."

"Back at you."

* * *

Zosocrowe: I enjoy showing off the different aspects of relationships. Especially with such a close group. 

Hellsfirescythe: IDW comics were the first comics I've bought in YEARS and I can't wait for each month to hurry up so the next issue will be released XD

Casus Fere: I'm all about spreading the love! btw, your little Seeklet stories are adorable!

Teh: Thank you for all your reviews, I'm glad you enjoy the drabbles that much!


	36. Under Stars Wreckers

What's Wrong with a Little Destruction?  
The Wreckers

The continuing awesomeness of IDW's top strikeforce!

Note: Some of these are modified actual myths, others are completely made up. And I wonder how many people get the pop culture reference I'm tossing in here.

* * *

5. Under Stars Wreckers

_"There is much pleasure to be gained from useless knowledge."  
-Bertrand Russell_

Xantium was tucked in a rough mountain ridge, protected from detection by a twisting magnetic boundary that took both Whirl and Broadside's full attention to navigate and too dangerous for a casual fly-by and difficult to scan from inside or out of the field. Having that safety net on them the four ground vehicles felt little concern as they laid out on Xantium's deck, staring up at the night sky and speaking to each other on a tightlink.

"-say that the Milky Way is snow shaken off from a great beast as it walked the Path of the Dead."

Twin Twist looked a little confused at Roadbuster's story. "Why would a dead thing still have snow on it?"

His fellow jumpstarted brought up a hand to knock against his shoulder. "It's a myth. They're not supposed to make sense."

"Yeah, like all those cultures that think things like meteor shows and comets are warning of approaching dangers?" The driller rolled his optics. "Pfft. Like the universe has nothing better to do than worry about one miniscule group of beings."

Scoop craned his head back to look at him. "What, you don't find this kinda stuff interesting?"

"I know lots of stellar mythologies. Some of them are pretty funny, actually."

"Yeah? Like what?"

Twin Twist couldn't help smirking to himself. "There's this one planet that believed their world was swallowed by a god or something and all the stars are the glitter of its bones."

This time Topspin and Roadbuster turned to look at him. "What? You're making that up! What the slag is their sun supposed to be, then?"

He waved a white hand. "Like… the god opening its mouth to feed or something completely off the wall like that. And I'm serious. This is an actual myth- Brawn'll vouch for me!"

They continued to look at him, unconvinced, until understanding lit Roadbuster's optics. "Wait- that was the planet that Prime called all the drilling specialists for, right? The one with the entire underground society?"

Twin Twist nodded smugly. "Yup! The ones that were afraid of living on the surface in case whatever else their god swallowed crashed into their planet. That's how they explained comets, earthquakes, rain and everything else dealing with the sky."

"Crazy."

"As crazy as the myth that the universe was created when a giant beast sneezed?"

All optics turned to Scoop. "When _what_?"

Grinning widely at the attention, Scoop settled comfortably, looking up at the glinting stars and continued. "There's these creatures with fifty arms or something and they believe the universe was created by a giant's sneeze and believe it'll be wiped out by a sanitary cleansing. Hand to Primus- it's an actual story told on Earth. Wheeljack sent me a short transcription of it!"

Topspin shook his head. "Of course 'Jack would find something _that_ odd." The hover vehicle pointed up to the sky again. "Anyway, anyone else heard of the hunting beast in Sirius?" Silence met his question so the medic continued. "It's got Murzim of to the right, then Muliphen, Wezen, Adhara, Furud and Aludra off to the side, see it?"

Optics squinted and heads turned. "No. How is that a hunting beast?"

"I dunno, organics have vivid imaginations. Anyway, it's supposed to be a great beast that partners with a hunter and they're both set to attack the horned creature right over there."

"Still don't see it." Twin Twist said. "Though I heard that Sirius is actually part of a constellation with a two headed beast. It's at its apex at some civilization's new year and the two heads look in opposite directions- one in the past, the other in the future."

Roadbuster hummed. "I see that even less than I see the hunter." Suddenly, distinctly non-stellar flashes lit up the sky. Roadbuster sat up. "There's our signal." He stood as the other quickly clamored to their feet. "Wreckers, transform and let's makes some bodies."

* * *

FloofWolfe: You never know, they might actually work XD

Teh: Yeah, Vortex is... a special case. As most Decepticons are, I think.

Kyarorin: Thank you! Those are pretty much the reactions I'm going for!

VAWitch: A playful love triangle, huh? Haha, that'll take some tangling with, but I think I'm up for it! cracks knuckles


	37. Request: Kup and Wreckers

What's Wrong with a Little Destruction?  
The Wreckers

The continuing awesomeness of IDW's top strikeforce!

Note: Requested by VAWitch. Deneb IV was mentioned in the Marvel Comics where Kup nearly lost his entire platoon in a Decepticon attack.

Also note: The first issue of Devastation comes out today and Transformers IMAX comes out on Friday! Happy friggin' birthday me! D

* * *

Request: Kup and Wreckers

_"A teacher's purpose is not to create students in his own image, but to develop students who can create their own image."  
-Unknown_

The two 'bots walked down the Hub in a fairly sedate pace though it was more in consideration of the much younger and larger mech than the one whose paint had faded to an almost ash-green.

"It's been a while."

"Yessir, it has."

"Enough of that 'sir' business, Roadbuster. I told you I had enough of that when you graduated from the academy."

Roadbuster's green visor glowed. "Yessir."

He got a scathing look in return. "Heard you had a pretty close call on Deneb IV." Kup nodded at the fresh flexiseal across the Wrecker's chest."

"Took heavy shrapnel, pierced my fuel injector." He grimaced under his facemask. "Had to get it replaced- nasty business."

"I don't doubt it." That planet didn't hold any pleasant memories for Kup as it was. "At least you're walking again."

"I lucked out. If I was moving any faster, if my armor wasn't as thick, if any of the others weren't there, if the docs didn't know how to do their job I'd be dead. I have no illusions about that."

They walked on in silence for a moment before Kup felt the need to ask, "Ratchet _did_ let you out, right? I'm too old to be dodging laser scalpels and he's got a helluva arm."

That earned a rumbled laugh. "I convinced him, given the circumstances, to let me go provided I stayed off duty."

"And I played chaperone."

"And you played chaperone."

They both chuckled at that, nodding to what other Autobots passed by them with a greeting. "Speaking of which, how are the other lads, anyway? I'm hoping you've been doing better since that drift thing?"

"We still can't mention that around Twin Twist." Roadbuster admitted. "And we still stand by the official excuse that that incident was a fluke. But no, we've still been going around, kicking aft and taking names."

"Good. Roster hasn't changed around, has it?"

The larger mech shook his head. "Thankfully, no. Our team is real tight- it'll be bad business if it's got to be switched up." Because it would mean one of them was killed. "They'll all be ecstatic to see you, by the way."

"Bah." Kup waved a hand in faux irritation. "Don't know why you young 'bots are soft on an old mech like me. Not like I was your only instructor." He paused. "In fact- I only trained you and Springer. The rest of them I never even met until this Wreckers business got started."

"Well, you know Springer. Took all your training and advice and stories to spark. He'll go on and on about you at the slightest prompting."

Kup chuckled. "He's a fool and a half, that one. Really matured since the academy. Good lad."

"Indeed." They stopped at the entry to the brig, waiting for their clearance to go through. "But still the same Springer."

"That he is." They stopped along the span of three occupied cells and Kup said sharply, "Alright you sorry lot of glitches! Your escorts are here to boot your afts back to respectability!"

Instead of any cringing or sheepish looks all the occupants got their feet with beaming faceplates, talking all at once. "Kup! Hey, what's a relic like you up to? You're _still_ functioning?"

"Fragging trouble-making, turbo-brained fledglings." He said with a fond growl, deactivating the cells. Kup had been in this business for too long to get too attached to any particular mech or several- had his spark broken too often out lasting them –but it was difficult for him to not like the Wreckers. They were a reminder of his youth and they all had the time and experience to find that difficult balance between play and business. They were disciplined, intelligent, professional and they always found a way to make Kup laugh. He'd come to respect and like them enough to not mind bailing them out every now and again. "Always gotta cause chaos wherever you go, don't you?"

They shuffled into the main hall, not at all acting as if they were locked up for an entire shift. "Gotta keep on our game somehow!" Twin Twist said with a wide grin.

Sandstorm went up to Roadbuster and gave him a light punch in the arm. "Good to see you back on your feet, RB!"

"Better than on his back, that's for sure." Topspin beamed. Roadbuster gave a half snarl and a vague swipe in both their directions. Broadside had to duck to get out of the open cell and stopped by Kup.

"You going to join us for some energon? Maybe tells us a story or two?"

Kup shook his head. "Why you lot always want to hear the same stories time after time is beyond me."

"But we like 'em!" Scoop piped up.

"And we want to know what parts you change this time around!" Whirl added with a cycloptic grin.

"Get outta here, ya smart-aft scrap buckets!" He snapped at them without venom. The Wreckers snickered as they moved out into the main corridor. Kup turned to look at the straggler still in the entryway to the cell.

"Good seeing you again, old timer." Springer said fondly.

"I'd say the same if I didn't have to keep pulling your aft outta the fire." He tossed his head, indicating for the triplechanger to move. "When are you gonna stop slagging off Prowl?" Kup asked, as if he didn't ask every time they met.

And Springer answered as if he didn't say the same thing after each question. "When he stops being such a tight aft."

The older 'bot tried to keep his grizzled face on, but couldn't help chuckling. "You did get him pretty good this time, though."

"Blaster said he got a capture of it." He leaned in conspiratorially. "I could slip you a copy."

Kup laughed like he knew he shouldn't be and slapped Springer's shoulder. "Good lads!"

Same old Springer indeed.

* * *

FloofWolfe: A prank backfire? Oh, that would be precious XD

Teh: People are complex so I like being able to take characters at different angles. Really fleshes them out.

Melora: When one talks about odd myths, one can't _not_ think of that!


	38. Colorful Wreckers

What's Wrong with a Little Destruction?  
The Wreckers

The continuing awesomeness of IDW's top strikeforce!

Note: Actually takes place before Kup and Wreckers, but I felt it was funnier in this order.

* * *

6. Colorful Wreckers

_"The life of the creative man is lead, directed and controlled by boredom. Avoiding boredom is one of our most important purposes."  
-Susan Sontag_

The problem with the Wreckers- as Prowl had predicted since their instatement –wasn't the fact that they couldn't take orders. No, they were very good with following orders- especially if it was given by someone they respected. The problem with the Wreckers was who it was they were lead by. Not because their leader was bad at what he did or was difficult for others to get along with- rather, Springer was well-liked by most all the Autobots, was easy-going, clever and ready to lead any charge no matter how dangerous. The problem was the fact that Springer was not particularly fond of Prowl- a sentiment that was returned. They respected each other's abilities, sure, but it was just a problem of their personalities being unable to mesh. In the academy and beyond they just couldn't find a way work together and what continued to boggle Prowl's battlecomputer was the fact that Springer purposefully went out of his way to do things to annoy the tactician.

Even when the black and white mech made it clear he merely wanted to deal with Springer and his group only when they had to set foot on whatever area he was in charge of, every time he ended up having to track the triplechanger down and have words on just what problems he was letting his Wreckers get into this time. An event that hadn't changed and Prowl regarded the larger 'bot with flat, unamused optics.

"They weren't causing trouble- they were training."

"Training."

"Yeah. You know, practicing to make sure they'd be capable of doing something in a real-life situation."

"And what part of this," he said in a measured, monotone way, "is training?"

"Sneaking. Sabotage. Stealth." Prowl didn't look at all convinced and Springer put his hands on his hip components, sighing at having to explain- in detail –yet another exercise. "It's really simple. Wreckers go around, picking targets and they receive points for each successful completion."

"You train by painting your fellow Autobots."

"It's a challenge."

Prowl look as convinced as ever- that is, not at all. "Is that so?"

"Oh yeah. Each 'bot is worth 10 points but some are worth more. Hound, for example, is worth an extra 10 because he'd be able to smell the paint if you're not careful. Mirage is also plus 10 because he's difficult to find outside of missions. Sunstreaker, Brawn and all the other hot-tempered ones are 10 each and an additional 10 if they don't beat the slag out of someone afterwards. Of course there's also other bonus points: how much paint is put on, how long it takes for them to notice, if it can be done without potential witnesses noticing- and sometimes we give out bonuses if the writing or drawing is particularly creative."

"Hmm."

Springer spread his hands in an unrepentant shrug. "Officers are a bonus, too. Extra five points added for each level of rank. Plus the additional hazard 10 for Ironhide, Ratchet or Wheeljack if it's done in his lab. And points are doubled if it's the first time that particular 'bot was tagged. Right now, on top of normal points, rank, difficulty and the fact no one's managed to tag him yet, Jazz has the highest score attached to him. Each Wrecker is given a specific color: Topspin blue, Twin Twist teal, Whirl purple, Sandstorm orange, Scoop yellow, Broadside red, I'm green and Roadbuster brown. He was stuck in medical this round, though, so he was keeping score."

"You've done this a lot then, I take it?"

"Like I said- it's training."

A curious thought crossed Prowl's cranial unit and he had to ask, "Does this include Prime?"

"Yup. Scoop already tagged him a long time back, though."

Prowl's optics grew icy. "Dare I ask?"

"Just said 'Better than Megatron'." Springer snickered slightly. "We gave him bonus points, though, because the highest Scoop can reach on Prime is just above his aft."

Prowl gave himself a mental shake- he was getting off track from this. "Training is fine but not when it disrupts the workings of the command."

"Who's disrupting?"

"I received nearly twenty complaints from this 'exercise' within the span of three cycles. That's a disruption."

Springer hummed thoughtfully. "Maybe we should instigate a negative points policy for getting caught…"

"What you _should_ do is stop trying to pass off this juvenile joke as 'training' and do actual, practical _work_."

"You're overreacting. Again. No one's hurt and no one's incapable of doing their duty. So they got a little paint on them- big fragging deal."

Prowl's doorwings twitched with growing irritation. "It _is_ a big deal when it bothers those in my command enough to say something about it. It's against regulations and the washracks weren't built to have so many mechs in there at once. Every time you're here you're always causing some sort of disruption and it's highly irritating having to put a stop to my work to tell you to stop doing something you know better than to start in the first place."

"Maybe you should lighten up, then."

"Maybe you should start acting your rank."

"Um, excuse me Prowl."

He glared at Springer for a moment longer before turning. "Yes, Hoist?" His doorwings gave an involuntary twitch.

The bulky green mech shifted a little uncomfortably. "I'm afraid the main pump in the enlisted washracks have finally broken down. Since we already have the part on order with our last supply request it's on the way, but those won't come in for almost half a deca-cycle." His optics flickered as Prowl's doorwing twitched again. "We can set up a temporary fix, but the shower heads are down completely."

Prowl could see a mutiny on the horizon. Transformers had an affinity for cleanliness (some bordering on obsessive) and he was already attempting to figure out the best way to set up rotations for the enlisted to use the officer's washracks without causing too much of a hitch for anyone. Prowl turned to glare at Springer again. Behind him, Hoist gave a little choke and cough. Springer looked far too amused, hands clasped behind his back in a lax parade rest, waiting to hear what Prowl had to say.

Prowl merely pressed his lips together, debated the best way to get this done and decided the faster the better. "Get your 'bots to the brig."

The just seemed to make Springer smile all the more. "Of course." He turned and swaggered off as proud as you please.

A long silence descended on the remaining two and Prowl finally asked, "He put something on my back, didn't he?"

Hoist coughed again. "Yes, Prowl."

"Prowl to Ironhide."

"_Ironhide- go ahead._"

"When Springer brings the Wreckers to the brig, be sure to point him to a cell. I need to make a stop off at the officers' deck before I return to duty."

There was a pause as Ironhide processed this. "_He get ya too, huh?_"

"Prowl out." The tactician made his way down the hall determined to act as natural as ever and ignored all the double takes and snickers as he went, 'tight aft' scrawled in bold characters across his roof.

* * *

FloofWolfe: If he were several centuries younger, I'll bet Kup would have joined the Wreckers in a heartbeat XD

Khareesa: Thank you! And don't worry- you have plenty of time to think of something before I run out of prompts :P

Teh: Actually cyclopean refers to size, mainly giant and irregular, coined by the Ancient Greeks on the Mycenaean fortifications, believing such large boulders could've only been moved by the giant cyclops. I learn stuff in art history D

VAWitch: Thanks, I'm glad you liked it!


	39. Request: Twins and Wreckers

What's Wrong with a Little Destruction?  
The Wreckers

The continuing awesomeness of IDW's top strikeforce!

Note: Requested by FloofWolfe and Tennis Tigress. Because you say 'twins' and 'prank' and I think 'prank on the twins'.

Also Note: Transformers comes out on IMAX today! I'll see you all after the movie:D

* * *

Request: Twins and Wreckers

_"It was the most playful, spontaneous act I think I have ever seen from an adult,"  
-Al Siebert_

It wasn't often that the Wreckers needed additional bodies for missions (or, as Whirl called them, 'fodder on loan') but it did happen. With the need for air support and intel in the back it left the main offensive line too weak for Springer's liking and he asked Optimus Prime for a couple good, strong melee fighters that could follow orders no matter how unorthodox.

He was recommended, on the spot, the twins.

With everyone scrambling to prepare for the upcoming battle, duties had to be shuffled and spread around to leave Scoop with the time to meet and brief the two temps. As they were being shuttled in from a nearby outpost he waited in one of the hangars with Broadside as the triplechanger oversaw and directed their resupply, chatting amiably.

"Hey, Scoop!" They both turned to see the shift's dockmaster, Rundown, waving at them. "Got two 'bots for you!" By the small mech were two much taller ones, one a smooth red, the other a gleaming yellow.

"Sideswipe, Sunstreaker! C'mon over!" Having familiarized themselves with the twins' files the Wreckers somehow weren't at all surprised that Prime was so willing to hand the two out to them. Sunstreaker stayed a few steps behind his brother, handsome face pulled into a passing scowl while Sideswipe was fairly bouncing as they approached. "Nice of you guys to join the party!" The orange 'bot said with a smile. His processor couldn't help but note that he was, yet again, just slightly shorter than even more fighters.

"You kidding?" Sideswipe's hands were clenching and unclenching with barely contained excitement. "I'm totally psyched for this! I've heard about some of the missions you guys get- I hope this'll be just like 'em! That little outpost we were stationed on is so boring I thought my CPU would rot!"

Scoop couldn't help but smile sympathetically at the red fighter. "You do know we're just borrowing you, right? After this mission you two are going back to that outpost."

"Yeah- but we're not there _now_ and that's what's important."

Suddenly Sunstreaker spoke up. "What's up with this mech? Can't talk or something?"

Scoop blinked and then looked up and behind him. "Broadside? Well, he's just…" he paused as the large triplechanger very slowly turned his head to peer down at the trio and pressed his lips together to keep the tips from twitching upwards, "he's Broadside."

An equally slow and rumbling deep voice said, "Shi-ny pre-tty." Sunstreaker found himself backing up a step.

"What?"

He patted Broadside's shin guard. "Don't mind him. He's a great guy to have on your side." Sunstreaker didn't look convinced and Sideswipe wisely decided to keep out of it.

"Shi-ny shi-ny." Broadside leaned down and brought up a large finger with a very slowly and intense purpose. Sunstreaker scrambled back out of his reach.

"Tell your retarded buddy to keep his grubs off me!"

Scoop frowned at that. "Hey, now. Just because he doesn't process as well as others doesn't mean you can go around being cruel."

Sideswipe frowned as well- though it mainly had to do with the fact that he didn't want the Wreckers changing their minds about needing their help because his brother had his head up his aft. "Yeah, Sunny! You should apologize to Broadside!"

"Don't fragging call me that, Sideswipe. And I don't have to apolo-"

"Su-nny!" The brothers whipped their heads up to look at Broadside, shocked that someone else had the manifolds to say that in Sunstreaker's presence.

"Don't call me that!" The yellow 'bot snapped. "The only one that can get away with calling me that with maybe a light mauling is Sideswipe! Call me that again and I'll rip your vocalizer out through your exhaust pipe!"

A dark look covered the giant, gray mech's expression. "Su-nny mean. Su-nny bad."

Sideswipe took a not-so-discreet step away from his brother. "Uh, Sunny- I don't think it's a good idea to slag off a mech that size."

On the other hand, Sunstreaker was positively apoplectic at the continued use of the hated nickname. "It's _Sunstreaker_, you giant half-clocked imbecile! _Sun_. _Streaker_!"

Broadside swung his large head to Scoop. "Su-nny bad, Scoop."

A small hand patted his shin guard again. "Yes, Broadside. Sunny is very bad."

"Who the slag gave _you_ permission to call me that, shovel brain??"

"Scoop friend. No mean to Scoop."

Sunstreaker found himself taking another step backwards as Broadside leaned in very, very close. "Get away from me, freak!"

"Sunny," his brother hissed, "would you-"

"Stop calling me that, Primus fraggit!" He shouted, loud enough to draw attention from everyone in the cargo bay. "I slagging _hate_ that name and get _that_ one to _back the frag up_ already!"

Broadside's visor band narrowed unhappily. "No like Su-nny. Su-nny not friend. Su-nny not come."

Jaws unhinged. "_What_?" Sideswipe nearly shrieked. Scoop put a hand to his head.

"Broadside, Springer needs them on this mission, okay? They have to come."

"No. No want Su-nny. Su-nny not nice."

To the yellow warrior's surprise, his brother got right up in his faceplate and was poking him harshly in the chestplate. "_Now_ look what you've done!" He growled. "We haven't had any proper action in _mega-cycles_ and now you're going to ruin our chances to finally cut loose! I swear to Primus, _Sunstreaker_, if we get left behind because you're such a slagging moron I will make your life look like the Pit is a walk in a light garden!"

At first it looked as if Sunstreaker was going to argue, or at least refuse to amend. He glared right back at Sideswipe, then at Broadside and Scoop, then looked at his brother again. He opened his mouth, shut it, looked at Broadside, looked away, looked at him again, opened his mouth again, looked away, gritted his teeth, pinched the bridge of his nose with his thumb and finger, started to say something, stopped and then managed to very slowly force out each painful word from his vocalizer. "I'm. Sorry. If I hurt. Your… feelings." He hissed air out of his fans. "I. Would like to…." His optics flickered to Sideswipe briefly who held the gaze steadily, waiting for the rest of the sentence. "To be. Your. ………..Friend." Proud of his brother, Sideswipe patted his shoulder. Sunstreaker elbowed him in the side.

Broadside, however, beamed. "Ha-ppy. Su-nny good friend."

"Yeeeeees." Sunstreaker growled between tight teeth. "Can we get go-"

"Oh, good- you two are here." The group turned to find a green mech approaching them with long, swift strides. "Scoop already brief you on what you're expected to do?"

Glances were exchanged and Scoop shuffled a little sheepishly. "Er, actually about that, Springer-"

He was cut off sharply. "Forget it, you'll explain later. We got Decepticons on the move so we need to hustle. Broadside, status on the cargo."

The large 'bot straightened up immediately and- to the twins' surprise –replied swiftly, "The most pertinent supplies are already secure, the rest is mainly additional munitions, extra emergency supplies and rations. The only main thing we're missing are the thermobaric missiles but we'll need Red Alert to approve our clearance before we're able to handle it."

Springer cursed quietly. "We don't have time. Get everyone in and have Whirl request clearance to launch. We'll just have to make due without them. Sunstreaker, Sideswipe- you… what's with the dumb expressions for?"

"He can process normally?" Sideswipe blurted out.

"…Yeah, why wouldn't he?"

"Take it as a lesson in thinking before you open your mouth component." Broadside grinned down at the two. "_Sunny_."

It took Sideswipe and Scoop pinning him to the ground to keep Sunstreaker from knocking around Broadside's knees.

* * *

FloofWolfe: How is it you always seem to reply within an hour of me updating? XD But no- no one _can_ get the drop on Jazz.

Jason: Heehee, well he is the special ops officer for a reason!

Teh: HAHAHA! The Wreckers infiltrating deep into a Decepticon base only to pull a prank on them? I love it! XDD  



	40. Frightened Wreckers

What's Wrong with a Little Destruction?  
The Wreckers

The continuing awesomeness of IDW's top strikeforce!

Note: Takes place after a specific scene in a long series I'm in the process of finalizing the outline and starting up, speculating and expanding on the exchange between Prowl and Springer in Spotlight: Kup. This particular drabble takes place after a particularly scathing argument between the two- resulting in Springer's current crisis of faith -and not long before Thunderwing is defeated pre-Stormbringer.

* * *

7. Frightened Wreckers 

_"I must not fear. Fear is the mind-killer. Fear is the little-death that brings total obliteration. I will face my fear. I will permit it to pass over me and through me. And when it has gone past I will turn the inner eye to see its path. Where the fear has gone there will be nothing. Only I will remain."  
-Frank Herbert_

After what happened earlier the Wreckers were a little surprised to have gotten leave to use a shuttle. The air about them was charged- uncertain, uncomfortable and, Primus slaggit, they were actually afraid. None of them had ever seen Springer like this and after he issued orders to leave the base and get them to Thunderhead Pass, he left the bridge, shoulders slumped, feet heavy and looking so utterly… beaten.

The other Wreckers didn't know what to do with their leader so demoralized. They were on edge, snappish, unable to focus. Roadbuster had to break up more than a few heated arguments before deciding he had to find Springer, knowing the triplechanger would be the only one that could restore stability to their group. And Primus knew they'd need it once the fight against Thunderwing began in earnest.

He was in the officers' room looking almost huddled as guilt-wracked thoughts ran through his processor. "Springer?" Roadbuster stepped inside, not knowing how to deal with this side of his friend, even after all the centuries they've known each other. "Are you okay?"

There was a hoarse laugh. "No. Roadbuster… what am I doing?" He dropped his head to his hands, fingers tracing the curve of his helmet. "How much was Prowl right about? I don't know if this really is because I think it's right or I _want_ to think it's right because of what happened on Kaon."

Roadbuster's spark plunged. "Kaon wasn't your fault." He said a little soft, a little gruff. "It wasn't any one person's fault and no one blames you- _Prowl_ doesn't even blame you."

"Every decision I made after that is." He said. "How many 'bots did I sacrifice on suicide missions because I'm too afraid to change how I operate? Because I'm afraid if I change now, all those deaths would've been pointless?"

Roadbuster stood before Springer and the green mech kept looking at their feet. He leaned over to put his hands on Springer's shoulders. "You said it yourself. _You_ chose to follow this path. _We_ chose to follow you. You know the risks you take to save who you can, so do we. We chose to be Wreckers because we believe in this cause. We believe no one should be left behind, that everyone deserves the chance to survive or at least not to die alone. That's a belief we're willing to die for and so long as you believe the same thing we'll follow any order you give us."

"I almost got us killed. And for what? There was no one in danger, the patrol didn't need our help- there was no one to save, nothing to protect and I nearly killed us all by taking us out there! You trust me to lead you and uphold these beliefs and I don't think I can anymore." Springer curled deep into his own arms. "I've lost too much, failed too many times- I just… I can't keep doing this, Roadbuster. My spark can't take it."

He couldn't bring himself to say it, all the words going through his processor. He couldn't look at Springer- lost, caving in on himself –and tell him the Wreckers needed him to lead, to be strong, to pull their confidence back together again. He couldn't put that pressure on Springer's shoulder when he was already breaking down. It wasn't fair to depend on the triplechanger to be the one source of strength the rest of them drew upon. This wasn't the first time Roadbuster had seen that dependency threaten to bury his friend but he had never thought there'd be a day Springer would ever give in to it.

He'd seen it several times and Roadbuster never forced Springer to let him shoulder some of that responsibility and now he was finally crumbling from it. Roadbuster never hated himself more than at that moment. "We trust you." He said quietly. "We know you're not perfect and we know you make mistakes but we trust you to make your decisions carefully and choose the best course of action for everyone. This is the same situation as any, Springer." He said, vocalizer growing tight. "Whatever choice you make here, if you believe it's for the best, we'll trust and honor your judgement. And I'll always be your friend. Please don't forget that." Roadbuster gave the green mech's shoulder a final squeeze and walked out of the room and tried so hard not to think of the Wreckers without Springer.

* * *

FloofWolfe: That makes perfect sense then :P

JML, Pyro, Tiamat: Someone's gotta get over on them sometime XD

Teh: I've already got a long one in the works, though I may be able to turn it into a kinda long one-shot...

VAWitch: Like the twins would just let them get away with that. 

Hellsfirescythe: I'm trying to go for once a day updates. It's a challenge :D And you've got plenty to time to think up a request before I run out of them!

Okami: I'd like to see anyone try to tell Broadside no XD


	41. Request: Hot Rod, Arcee and Springer

What's Wrong with a Little Destruction?  
The Wreckers

The continuing awesomeness of IDW's top strikeforce!

Note: Requested by Tennis Tigress and VAWitch. Okay, so technically it's more of a friendship piece, but I needed to get their relationship squared away in my head before anything else.

* * *

Request: Hot Rod, Arcee and Springer 

_"I think God makes more than one soulmate for every person, and the one you live your life with is just the one you met first. Yeah well, I have a problem. I met all of mine at once."  
-Unknown_

"Springer! Hold up!"

The triplechanger stopped and turned, broad grin pulling at his lips. "Roddy!" He gave the red mech a light punch in the arm as he neared. "When did you get in?"

"Me?" Hot Rod made a face. "It's rare to have the Wreckers on the Orbital Hub since you got Xantium! Here for another resupply?"

"Maintenance, actually. Xantium is in need of a few upgrades and routine checks and since there's a lull in missions…" He shrugged. "You? Still doing the solo thing?" While Springer didn't approve of it, he understood both the fact that some missions could be completed with only one to limit chances of being caught and why Hot Rod felt more secure on his own.

Hot Rod- knowing Springer's opinion –just waved it off. "Every now and again. Recently I've been sent out to assist others, though- add a little firepower here, do some patrolling there, that kind of thing."

That had Springer frowning as he walked down the corridor again. "That's a waste of your talents." Kup had asked the Wrecker to keep an optic on the kid, take him under his proverbial wing and Springer didn't understand why at first. Until he met the younger mech and recognized under all the bravado was even more potential and a lot of fear of failing. He still didn't much understand why Kup felt it necessary for Springer being the one to look out for him but he'd come to count Hot Rod amongst his best friends.

"We can't always be played to our strengths." Hot Rod followed after, walking shoulder to shoulder with the other mech. "As nice as it would be." In turn he regarded Springer to be like an older brother, one of the 'bots closest to him, understood him even when Hot Rod didn't. Probably oddly enough to most, neither made any move for Hot Rod to join up with the Wreckers. As close as they were they knew instinctively their working together for any great period of time would result disastrously. "Where're we heading, anyway?"

"Arcee's coming back from temporary duty. You didn't know?"

"Was I supposed to?" Hot Rod spread his hands. "I just got here."

Springer reached over to shake him by the spoiler. "Way to keep on top of things, Roddy."

"Why, thank you! I'm rather proud of that talent myself."

As they went down to one of the hangars they began to pass by a number of other Autobots passed the other way- most likely having returned on the same shuttle Arcee had. As they approached the hangar door, a recognizable pink and white form appeared.

"Hey!" She greeted with a wave. "Well, been a while since I saw my two favorite mechs at the same time!" Arcee pulled each into a quick hug, a bit of the stress of traveling seeping out at the familiar rumbles of their engines vibrating against her. She turned the two around and linked her arms through theirs, taking them right back down the way they came. "To what do I owe this honor, gentlebots?"

"That fact that we suddenly developed great timing?" Arcee shoved her shoulder into Hot Rod, but laughed all the same.

"Are you off now?" Springer asked.

"Not so much. Dock master has our cargo taken care of but I'm going to have to go in for a debriefing in a few kliks."

The three of them together brought a strangely complex and simple relationship with each other. While many societies don't approve of sharing of partners, for a race that could potentially live forever it seemed rather odd and wasteful to limit themselves. Especially when the depth of emotions they held for so many was so strong. There was something about each other the three of them needed, they recognized it in themselves and in each other and it would've been just so stupid to deny that need, to make all three miserable by trying to single out one. Jealousy- while not an emotion foreign to Transformers –was not found between the three of them. Arcee calmed Hot Rod, Hot Rod inspired Springer and Springer bolstered Arcee's confidence. They were more complete as the three of them than any combination of two and none of them were fool enough to ignore that fact.

So when Arce pulled her arms tighter, forcing both larger 'bots to come close in and said, "We can meet up in my quarters afterwards, though. I know I need to unwind," they certainly knew better than to say no.

* * *

Casus Fere: I like Prowl to, actually. But, to be fair, he had very valid reasons to lay into Springer like he did.

FloofWolfe, Teh: It is. It's scary having people you think are the most steadfast about ready to have a breakdown.

Uftaki: Thank you! I'm glad you're enjoying everything!


	42. First Time Wreckers

What's Wrong with a Little Destruction?  
The Wreckers

The continuing awesomeness of IDW's top strikeforce!

Note: The events that landed Roadbuster in medbay as mentioned in Kup and Wreckers. MOP stands for Massive Ordnance Penetrator and is used as a bunker buster.

* * *

8. First Time Wreckers 

_"A man's dying is more the survivors' affair than his own."  
-Thomas Mann_

The world exploded in light and heat and sheer _power_ and it crushed Sandstorm into the ground, bits of shrapnel and dirt piercing into his armor. He hadn't had the chance to activate his audio dampers and it took a good several nano-kliks before he was able to hear transmissions on his radio again.

"_Slagging Pit!_" 

"_Fragging MOP-_"

"_-anyone in the blast radius?_"

"_-think it caught Sandstorm-_"

"I'm okay." Sandstorm radioed back, suspension wobbling a little as he tried to push himself out of the him-shaped hole he created. "Just a little shake- _Roadbuster_!" 

Tires squealed indignantly as they failed to find purchase and Sandstorm transformed, scrabbling to where the combat vehicle was tossed on his side, armor torn up and fluids leaking from damn near _every where_. He skidded on his knees by the undercarriage, wincing at the gouges that glowed with coolant and energon. "Roadbuster- RB, talk to me buddy."

"Ssss… S'nst'rm…?"

"Yeah, it's me- I'm gonna need ya to transform, okay pal? You can do that, right?" His hands hovered uncertainly- he couldn't see how bad the damage was in alt mode but he knew it wouldn't be good.

"….try…" It was a long, painful process and Sandstorm would've whimpered as more fluids gushed out if his vocalizer wasn't shut tight.

"Oh… Oh frag." He trembled, so incredibly scared as he recognized that he was looking _inside_ Roadbuster's chestplate. "_Spin_! Spin- get over here _now_!" Shaking hands tried to slick the armor clear, to get a better look at the damage but energon kept pumping out, coating his arms and dribbling into the grooves of his armor.

"RB, this is gonna hurt a bit but I need to get inside you, okay?" Roadbuster couldn't speak, but he nodded ever so slightly. Sandstorm dug inside the hole, tweezers extending from his fingers to push aside broken cables and wires and he knelt in close to magnify his gaze, trying to find just what was pumping out all that fluid.

Okay, okay- the gearbox was next to slag, bell housing torn up, crankcase, fluid coupler, PCV value- all junked but it shouldn't be leaking out this badly- where the slag was Topspin? He was the Primus fragging medic of this unit, he knew his way through their insides better than any-

"No…" Sandstorm moaned to himself. "Nonononono," his hands pressed in fast and Roadbuster grunted high and tight in his vocalizer, shaking around Sandstorm's grip. "_TOPSPIN_!"

"I'm here, I'm here- outta the way- I can't see a slagging thing!"

Sandstorm looked up at the disheveled blue and white, jaw trembling under his facemask. "Spin, his _fuel injector_ is busted!"

There was a pause, then a hiss and Topspin angled Sandstorm's wrists to get a look. "Primus slagging Pit- Springer, we got problems!"

"_How bad is he?_"

"Bad- we need some major cover and we'll need Whirl close by for a casevac in a tick!"

"What?" Sandstorm blurted, hand still clamped tight on the torn injector. "Evac him _now_!"

Topspin just scowled as he pulled his medkit from a compartment. "No point if he'll bleed out before Whirl can get him anywhere! Keep that clamped down until I tell you to move- this is going to be tight!" Topspin pulled out a small welder, hooks, flexiseals, a rongeur, laser scalpel, forceps, clamps and catheter. "Can't sedate you, RB- you're running too low on fuel for me to let it thin out anymore so you'll just have to deal best you can." He handed Sandstorm part of the catheter and angled the end of it out of their way before sticking the opening into the worst of the leak. Roadbuster said something weakly but neither could make it out through the rest of the noise.

Topspin worked quickly, fingers nearly a blur as he shifted things aside, cauterized what he could, pinned shut others and directed Sandstorm on keeping things out of the way until he had enough room to patch up the fuel injector. Sandstorm looked away, unable to watch one of the strongest mechs he knew so torn up before him. He tried to focus on the others, pushing back the Decepticon line, winced whenever one of the Wreckers was hit, just wanted everything to _stop_-

"Sandstorm- move your hand." Topspin's voice was quiet, almost gentle as he focused solely on the task before him. Another pump of energon spluttered out before Topspin was able to close it up, the small components extending from his hands deftly maneuvering around that small space. "It's a quick patch, but it should hold for the trip- he's gonna need to get that thing replaced. I hope to slag this base has that capability- Whirl! Get over here!" 

The helo flew in low and fast, angling his blades to keep debris from flying into Roadbuster's wound. As Topspin instructed Whirl on what to report and harnessed the large 'bot up, Sandstorm held Roadbuster's head between his thickly coated hands. "RB- RB, ya gotta hang on, okay?" The green visor band faltered for a moment, but glowed faintly.

"Sh-sh-sh-shutdown… sh-shut-"

For a brief moment Sandstorm was gripped with the need to tell him 'Don't shut down, we might not get you back if you do' but knew how much fuel trying to keep himself out of stasis lock would use up. "Don't stay off for long, RB." He said tightly. "We need you, ya hear? No one else can keep Springer in line and you know he'll go crazy trying to deal with the rest of us on his own."

"Aff-f-f…" Roadbuster's visor flickered and faded and Sandstorm was afraid they'd lost him until he scanned the combat vehicle's vitals. Hands pulled the triplechanger away and Whirl lifted off, careful and as fast as he dared.

Topspin turned Sandstorm to look at him, visor hard and furious, fluids splashed all up his arms and across his chest. "Sandstorm- get a hold of yourself." He seethed, wanting so badly to pull something apart in the most excruciating way possible. "We're in a battle and he's out of our hands now. He knows the risks, you know the risks- if you lose focus now you'll end up like him or worse. Get it together and _fight_."

Sandstorm nodded numbly, not wholly aware of just what Topspin had said to him. But, for the first time, for a brief time, he almost wished none of them needed to fight.

* * *

FloofWolfe: Good to know, especially since I don't normally play around with Hot Rod. I have a soft spot for three-part dynamics. I wish there was more of the three of them before Hot Rod became Rodimus. 

Khareesa: Thank you! I look forward to all the ideas people keep tossing at me XD

Hellsfirescythe: My opinion's always been 'when in doubt, orgy' XDD

VAWitch: Smut- probably not with restrictions. But I could probably play around with them some more.

Tecuma: Hahaha, Ratchet would totally be one of the only 'bots capable of cowing the Wreckers!


	43. Request: Megatron and Wreckers

What's Wrong with a Little Destruction?  
The Wreckers

The continuing awesomeness of IDW's top strikeforce!

Note: Requested by Zosocrow. In my personal-canon timeline Optimus ascends to Prime not long before the Thunderwing incident. In which case, this would take place not long after the exodus of Cybertron. And, er… I really don't know where this debate came from, I really, really don't. Also, obviously entirely speculation on my part.

* * *

Request: Megatron and Wreckers 

_"Let's have faith that right makes might; and in that faith let us, to the end, dare to do our duty as we understand it."  
-Abraham Lincoln_

A resounding silence followed the announcement of, "Springer, we're getting a comm request from Megatron". The Wreckers on duty exchanged bewildered glances.

Not at all certain on what to expect, Springer told Twin Twist, "Put him on." Part of the forward view isolated and the silver visage of Megatron came up. The Wreckers glared, engines rumbling a quiet displeasure and behind the Decepticon leader his own crew did the same. "You have something to say?"

Ignoring the question, Megatron gave a thin smile. "Ah, so it is you. I never did thank you for your assistance on Kaon."

Springer's cold optics narrowed and he raised a hand. "Twin Twist, cut the-"

"Hold on a moment." The command in Megatron's vocalizer actually caused Springer to pause. "I have a proposition for you."

"Unless it includes your unconditional surrender, I don't want to hear it."

"You might." Megatron leaned forward, red optics flashing and Springer couldn't help but think of some alien creature being pinned to a dissection table. "I'm not unfamiliar with you, the individuals on your team and the Wreckers as a whole. I've read reports, seen captures and witnessed your talents first hand and I am offering a place among my most elite warriors for you."

The bridge crew burst out into chatter- mostly furious and Springer had to snap at them to shut up. "You want _us_ to join the Decepticons?" He glowered. "Either you think we're a group of slag-brained morons or we highly overrated your processing power."

"On the contrary, I believe the lot of you to be highly knowledgeable and skilled which is why I'm offering such a high position despite your current alliance. As for my own intelligence- should you decide to take up my offer I do have precautions set up until I'm satisfied with your loyalty."

Springer, of course, had heard the rumors of someone in the Decepticon's ranks capable of reading minds. He didn't believe it but that didn't mean it was something he wanted to chance even if he did think they could pull off such an infiltration off the cuff like this. As it was he found the whole idea to be insulting.

"You may have adequate time deliberating amongst yourselves. I'll be back in contact for your answer in-"

"No need." Springer sat back, arms crossed over his chest, framing the red insignia emblazoned proudly across it. "Your group already tried recruit most- if not all –of us before this war began. Our opinion on your cause hasn't changed."

"Is that so?" Megatron laced his fingers together, intent now that the discussion had moved to philosophy. "And what is so great about your cause that you wish to lose your life over it?"

"I believe in what it stands for."

"A corrupt police force that brutalizes its own people for a fascist government? Yes, I can see how that would be an important thing to maintain." Came the dry reply.

"As your alternative is an anarchist state I suppose I'd be choosing the lesser of two evils, then." Springer snapped back harshly. "If you don't have anything important to say, this conversation has ended."

Unfazed by this, Megatron continued on. "Tell me, Springer. What is it about this proud Autobot government of yours that you're so attached to? You graduated in the top 15 percentile from the academy and yet you merely did the minimum service years before you left the military and went freelance. Yet here you are now, fighting to reinstate the very officials you detested having to serve. The same ones- if I may paraphrase –that 'are too slagging stupid to know if the sun is rising or falling without getting ten of them together, arguing for five mega-cycles and still getting it wrong, let alone understand that their armies are more than numbers to be tossed in any Primus damned direction'."

Springer's mouth pressed into a thin line. "So you can hack into old military files. I'm not impressed."

"Well?" Megatron leaned toward the screen again and the Wreckers felt an absurd urge to lean away. "What is this great cause a useful and well-grounded mech like yourself has such faith in?"

There was a long pause and Springer realized that he… really didn't know what to say in response. He knew the feeling in his spark, but couldn't find the words to comprehend it. "I believe in protecting those that need it. I believe the greater good depends on all citizens not having to fear for their security or their lives. Have you taken a good look at your ranks, Megatron? You have thieves and cutthroats. Liars, schemers, double-dealers, spies- everyone is so busy furthering themselves and too paranoid to trust each other that it's only their fear of you that keeps them oriented on any goal.

"How do you expect to rule an entire society when you constantly have to look over your own shoulder? Once you're dead- killed, probably by one of your own officers –what makes you think this legacy of yours will survive? It's already so ravaged by infighting they'll destroy each other before they'd let anyone else lead. What kind of future is that for anyone?" Springer's fan whirled faintly in his audios and he vaguely realized that if he weren't sitting he'd be shaking. He'd fought against Megatron a handful of times in the field before, but now- having the full focus of the silver 'con –he found it overpowering, frighteningly intense. It was almost impossible to remember that he was merely a miner before the civil war began.

After the rant, to everyone's great surprise, Megatron just smiled a small, pleased smile. "So you don't actually believe in this government of yours. Good to know. Perhaps I'll be in touch with you at a later time in case you change your mind." Megatron raised a hand and the transmission cut off.

All optics turned to Springer questioningly. "Whirl- get us out of comm range."

* * *

FloofWolfe: Everyone needs a close call now and then. Besides, with their job it can't be too far fetched. Poor guys.

tomorrow4eva: Thank you! I don't recall seeing your name in a review before so thank you for taking the time out to do so now!


	44. In the Rain Wreckers

What's Wrong with a Little Destruction?  
The Wreckers

The continuing awesomeness of IDW's top strikeforce!

Note: I vaguely recall this game from… somewhere, but I can't recall the name or the exact rules. Oops.

* * *

9. In the Rain Wreckers

_"The best thing one can do when it's raining is to let it rain."  
-Henry Wadsworth Longfellow_

They all sat beneath the overhang, staring into the world. "I can't believe," Whirl said, "the war got called off on account of rain."

"If you want to go out and melt, be our guest." Dirge snapped back.

"Yeah- give the rest of us some room to move." Thrust muttered, looking highly uncomfortable with his close proximity to Broadside's foot. The triplechanger took up more than half the available room in the decrepit shack, Sandstorm lounging on one thigh and Whirl perched in the crook of his arm. The three Coneheads, meanwhile, had jockeyed for the spot furthest away from them.

The white helo sighed, looking at the downpour again. "Stupid acid rain."

The six of them, of course, weren't at all happy to be forced in close proximity with their enemies. There was a pretty intense moment when it seemed like weapons would start blazing until Broadside pointed out if they started fighting it was likely they'd destroy their shelter and then everyone would be at the mercy of the rain. After they had scrambled in with smoldering streaks pocking their armor the thought was not one any were eager to try out. So they settled and kept to themselves and waited out the rain as best they could.

"Argh! This sucks!"

Some couldn't wait as well as others, obviously. Sandstorm looked about ready to say 'frag this rain' and jet but Broadside's hand on his shoulders kept him sat firmly on his aft. Somehow the outburst managed to jog Ramjet's memory and he started a bit. "Oh!"

All optics turned to him curiously. "What?"

"I just remembered I have dice!" The white jet pulled them out of a compartment- four to be exact.

Dirge and Thrust regarded him oddly. "Why do you have dice?"

"Who cares?" Sandstorm slid off Broadside and whisked them up. "Now we have something to do!" Bringing out a precision laser cutter from his wrist guard he etched a circle into the floor. "Alright- whoever's playing, gather around!"

Glances were exchanged by they all crowded in. "_What_ are we playing?"

"Anything and everything!" Sandstorm regarded Decepticon and Autobot alike with a wicked look. "First game is simple- everyone shoots a die to determine the order every round. The point is to get the highest possible score. Double numbers multiplies your total of the doubles by half, triple numbers double it and three consecutive-"

"But there's four dice." Ramjet chipped in. One of them bounced off his nosecone.

"Three consecutive numbers doubles your entire score. Any dice landing outside the circle doesn't get counted. All in?"

The three Decepticons looked at each other but ultimately said, "Alright. What are we betting with?"

"Energon rations." Oh, it was such a good thing Sandstorm had a facemask, otherwise he would've scared the poor suckers away with his predatory grin. Before the war (and during the occasional off-time) Sandstorm had run a few backalley dice-rings. He was as professional a gambler as one could get without the jail time.

He rolled those Coneheads with a subtle skill, letting them come out ahead just enough that they didn't realize they were slowly losing everything. Of course, to keep things even, Sandstorm gave Whirl and Broadside enough loses to make them look as if they were in the hole. But with Sandstorm acting as the house, whatever rations the Wreckers were losing would go right back to them afterwards.

They played for cycles, playing a variety of games and- surprisingly –ribbing on each other good naturally. It wasn't until Dirge was down to nearly half his rations (and he got off the richest of the three) that someone noticed that, "Hey, it stopped raining!"

They all looked to the opening and peered out. Sure enough every cloud had vanished and the suns were hanging low on the horizon. "Primus- has it really been that long? We need to report in."

"Hey." Broadside said. "There any signs of more rain approaching?"

"Lemme check." Thrust accessed a nearby satellite link-up. "Nope. It's a clear front for us."

"Good." With that, Broadside kicked Thrust through the nearest wall.

* * *

Teh: I don't know about 'professional' but thank you XD I tend to think I get wordy, myself.

VAWitch: I like to have my 'verses as grounded as close to canon as I can while still making it my own. And with the Security Force as they were depicted in Megatron: Origin I figure it wouldn't be something Springer could fully get behind. Partly the reason why he respects Prime so much :P

FloofWolfe: Haha, well Megatron does not, at the least, lack in self-confidence XDD


	45. Request: Vortex and Topspin

What's Wrong with a Little Destruction?  
The Wreckers

The continuing awesomeness of IDW's top strikeforce!

Note: Requested by FloofWolfe. Hurray for voodoo mechanics!

* * *

Request: Vortex and Topspin

_"I'd call him a sadistic, hippophilic necrophile, but that would be beating a dead horse."  
-Woody Allen_

The alert for the security door chimed and Twin Twist opened it up. "Hey, RB. What's the word?"

Roadbuster stood behind the driller and watched the monitor with a measure of amusement. "Springer's negotiating with Onlslaught as we speak. He's completely slagged off."

"Aw, we're just doing our jobs."

"At Vortex."

Twin Twist grinned. "In that case I don't blame him."

"How's he doing, anyway?"

"Still chatty. Remind me never to get in a debate with Spin, by the way."

Roadbuster's look was dubious. "It can't be that bad."

"Can't it?" Twin Twist reached over and turned up the audio to the holding cells.

"_No, no._" Topspin's voice cut in. "_You break the main fuel line and they'll bleed out in thirty nano-kliks._"

"_I'm not saying pull it out- just make an incision and feed the coolant line in._" Replied Vortex.

"_Wait- coolant?_"

"_Sure. You ever seen what happens when coolant goes through the fuel pump? It's like giving them a seizure._"

"_Really? I mean- I kinda figured that's what it did but never really_ knew._ Does it really_?"

"_It all depends on the fuel-to-coolant ratio, of course._"

Twin Twist flipped the volume down again. "Been talking about nothing but internals since Vortex onlined."

Roadbuster looked slightly disturbed at the fact it was their _medic_ doing this. "That explains why you turned the sound off."

"Oh yeah."

* * *

Tecuma: The ending was the first thing I came up with and built everything else around that XD

Pyro Falkon: ...guess what I want to draw now.

Teh: That's how the Wreckers roll!

JML: The universe would probably implode from the raw concentration of flair, lying and cheating XD

FloofWolfe: I love punchlines :P

Ronin Elf: I'm glad to hear it! And I'm certainly glad you like the recent chapters!

Lady Mirror: I fully support people picking up IDW because it fully rekindled my love of Transformers! And the twins are so much fun!

Hellsfirescythe: I think it may be a long time before I finally stop XD


	46. Request: Vortex and Springer II

What's Wrong with a Little Destruction?  
The Wreckers

The continuing awesomeness of IDW's top strikeforce!

Note: Requested by FloofWolfe. Given ffnet's restrictions this- or an approximation of it –will probably be as close to 'smut' as I'll get.

WARNING: BADTOUCHING AHEAD

* * *

Request: Vortex and Springer

_"It's useless to hold a person to anything he says while he's in love, drunk, or running for office."  
-Shirley MacLaine_

Among the unfair things Onslaught had tasked Vortex with since the negotiations for his being released from the Wreckers was having to drag Springer's over-energized chassis to the triplechanger's quarters. Vortex was certain there was something ironic about drinking with the same guys that had him locked up for the better part of a mega-cycle but he had too much energon to care. Besides, he was too busy thinking that Springer was far too big and heavy for Vortex to be dealing with on his own. Especially when Springer was leaning against the Combaticon heavily enough to make him keep ramming his shoulder into the wall, belting out a drinking song.

"Drunk last night," had to be about the fourth time he'd gone through this verse, "drunk the night before, gonna get drunk like we've never drunk before!" Vortex did not want to be him when he woke up. "'Cuz here we are, as happy as can be for we are the Wreckers! The strongest force are we!"

"That's great," Vortex grumbled loudly. "Can you stop now? My audio is about to go."

Springer's head turned around and glared unevenly. "Howzat my problem?"

"'Cuz it'll suck."

"Pfft." But the Wrecker quieted and, in return, leaned even more heavily on Vortex. After a bit, though, he reached up with his far hand and began giving Vortex's head a couple of pokes.

"What?" He groused after the first. He was just poked again. "What?" And again. "Slagging Pit- _what_?"

Suddenly Springer's face was very, very close to his. "Ya know," he drawled and Vortex could feel the warmth of processed air being spoken overlaid with the slightly sweet scent of energon, "I never did get ya back."

"You what- whoa!" The combination of the wall, Springer and Vortex's own inebriated state had the two of them sprawling over Xantium's deck and it took the Combaticon a moment to realize his orientation had taken a 90 degree change. It took a moment longer to realize what the pressure on his back was. "Hey-," Vortex froze as he felt hands on his rotary assembly.

"Didn't think I'd forget, did ya?" A voice rumbled low by his head and an involuntary shiver went down his frame. Fingers traced the length of the blade lying across Vortex's left shoulder, down to the hub, against the rod all the way to where it junctioned to the swashplate.

Vortex twitched and shuddered, felt a scrape against his turning ring that turned into a caress against it and the ball joint. Springer's other hand moved over Vortex's hip component, fingering the casing of the rotator cup, heavy, sure and feeling along every inch to find the right spot that would make the Combaticon jump. Vortex's engine purred softly, little elicit noises whimpering from his vocalizer. When Springer ran his glossa over Vortex's teeter hinge he let out a hoarse gasp.

"Like that?" Came the pleased vibration that, pressed against his back with all these sensations firing off in his circuits, vibrated all through his processor. Vortex nodded weakly, unable to speak and when the Wrecker returned to the hinge and _sucked_ the other helo arched into him and begged.

"Oh Primus-yes." There was a curious hum and it made all the sensors in Vortex's rotary assembly spark at once, all the way down to the gearbox. "Please yes- don't stop. Don't… Oh Primus- hah…" If there was a thought about his hooking up with an Autobot on an enemy ship in the middle of the hall, Vortex didn't have it. And if he did he wouldn't have kept it, not with Springer shifting to press both hands against the rotary assembly. Fingers caressing against pitch hinges, scissor links, running over the sharp edges of the blades. Springer's mouth closed over a linking rod and he growled, sending a tremor shooting pleasure all down Vortex's back. He panted and wriggled, trying to get more contact, hot sparks going off in his processor and circuits threatening to break open wide and electric flow crackling dangerously-

And then it stopped. It took a moment for Vortex's high to simmer enough for him to notice but he did. Befuddled he looked over his shoulder with a harsh complaint in his vocalizer and… found Springer had fallen into recharge against his back. The triplechanger's head rested against Vortex's rotator head and a couple fingers still curled against his swashplate but the mech was completely gone. Vortex's head hit the deck with a thunk and he threw his arms over his helmet.

"Slagging perfect."

* * *

JML: Octane, perhaps? Hmmmm, I should look up some rules for poker... 

FloofWolfe: Glad you liked!

Mirror: Hahaha, well I'm certainly okay with converting people- especially if it brings more love to the overlooked (aka Wreckers)!

Uftaki: Thank you for your comments, I'm glad you're enjoying these!


	47. Request: Ratchet and Wreckers

What's Wrong with a Little Destruction?  
The Wreckers

The continuing awesomeness of IDW's top strikeforce!

Note: Requested by FloofWolfe. Take place in a speculative time, probably during Devastation in which- because I can –the Wreckers have been called to Earth to deal with Sixshot. Notes on potential Wrecker alt modes at the end.

* * *

Request: Ratchet and Wreckers 

_"I don't dawdle. I'm a surgeon. I make an incision, do what needs to be done and sew up the wound. There is a beginning, a middle and an end."  
-Dr. Richard Selzer_

Jazz's voice carried through before the doors ever opened. "Ratchet man, you've got some work ahead of you!"

"Oh my God!"

"Geez- what happened to _them_?"

Ratchet turned and winced. "Ah slag- Bumblebee, get Jimmy and Verity out of here."

"Hey- wait a minute-" Verity began, but was shushed as Bumblebee hustled the two out.

"You don't want to argue with Ratchet when he has patients. Especially when it doesn't look like he has time to watch where he's stepping."

"Exactly." He directed Jazz to sit Sandstorm down on an operating table, triaging the other three Wreckers and pulling out equipment in a flurry. "And get Wheeljack down here!" He called to Bumblebee's back. After the door shut again he had to ask, "What _did _happen to you?"

"Sixshot." Scoop winced as the gaping wound along his side stretched. "Transformed faster than anyone I've ever seen- we nearly didn't take him down."

That made the CMO pause, looking first at Scoop (the best off), Sandstorm (the worst), then Topspin and Whirl (neither looking much better). "Alright- where are the other two? You can't tell me they're in perfect health while you lot are half-slagged."

"They're not much worse." Sandstorm gritted out, a couple wounds having reopened.

"Well, they're a little better. Spin did a quick patch on them so they could get Sixshot to the brig." Scoop added.

Ratchet swore loudly. "Jazz!" He snapped. "You, Hot Rod and Hardhead take care of Sixshot and kick those two slaggers down here! If they don't listen to you, call up Prime!"

Jazz saluted hastily. "You're the boss!" And made tracks out of there just as Wheeljack came in.

"Bee told me- whoa! Are these guys even still functional?"

"'Jack," Ratchet ordered, starting to clear out debris from Sandstorm's internals, "get Topspin fixed up, then you start on Scoop and he can work on Whirl. This one here," he opened up an access panel and it came off its hinges, "is a fragging mess."

Topspin tried to wave off the engineer. "Forget it, 'Jack. I'm good. I can get to work."

"Oh no you don't!" The white medic paused in tying up a loose fuel line. "Your arm is barely connected to your rotator cuff and I'm reading a transmission leak and a crack in your gearbox. Even in this mode you'll overheat yourself. And I know how you work- you're as bad as the rest of these fight freaks! You'll just patch them up enough to keep them going and say that's that!"

The blue and white hovercraft looked insulted. "Hey- they're all still alive!"

"And now I have to fix them properly!" With a quick twist, Ratchet pulled out a rod with a very faint crack in it. "You just put cement putty on this and left the rest up for his self-repairs to fix! He could've broken it again!"

Topspin just spread his arms- arm, rather. "I told him to take it easy."

"Hard taking it easy when you have a mechanical wolf tearing at your chassis." Sandstorm seethed back.

"You," Ratchet pointed at Topspin, "shut up and get fixed. You," he pointed at Wheeljack, "get to work. You two," he pointed at Scoop and Whirl, "go no where until _I_ decide you're fit for duty again and you," he pointed at Sandstorm, "are going to offline." Before the triplechanger could say anything Ratchet's fingers moved over an open component and the Wrecker fell limp on the table. To finish the discussion, Ratchet gave the three of them a curdling glare. "If the three of you so much as _twitch_ in a way that makes me think you're getting off those tables I will weld your afts to them, understood?"

By the time Springer and Roadbuster limped their way to the medbay they found their teammates uncharacteristically silent and passive as Ratchet and Wheeljack worked on them.

Springer couldn't help the upward twitch of his lips. "We get walked all over by Ratchet again?"

"Keep yaking and you'll be getting a nice footprint on your chassis, too." Ratchet groused. "Get on a table and don't say a thing." Unable to keep themselves from being thoroughly amused, the two did as they were told without complaint.

* * *

Broadside and Twin Twist would be left on Xantium because 1) someone needs to watch it and 2) Broadside's boat alt mode was damn near impossible to find and Twin Twist's was even more impossible. As it is, Topspin and Whirl aren't too happy with their alt modes, either. Actually, I don't think any of them are really happy with the selection because they don't get to carry all their weapons. 

_Broadside:_ TPSB Guardian, JF-17 Thunder (Xantium)  
_Roadbuster:_ LAV-600  
_Sandstorm:_ Ultra AP, YF-23 Black Widow II  
_Scoop:_ 297C Multi Terrain Loader  
_Springer:_ RG-31 Charger, AH-1 Super Cobra  
_Topspin:_ PACV  
_Twin Twist:_ MD 5200-1 (Xantium)  
_Whirl:_ Kamokov Ka-52 Alligator

Teh: To them I'm sure it's just business as usual, but I get a little creeped out by dissection talk o.O;;

FloofWolfe: Hehe, glad you liked!


	48. Happy Birthday Wreckers

What's Wrong with a Little Destruction?  
The Wreckers

The continuing awesomeness of IDW's top strikeforce!

Note: Pardon the vast heaping of Marvel UK homage and Marine Corps inspired love.

* * *

10. Happy Birthday Wreckers 

_"Each Year as we celebrate our birthday, we pause to reflect on the Marines of yesteryear who fought in our touchstone battles and forged the modern Marine Corps with their courage, integrity, and undying commitment to their fellow Marines."  
-General M. W. Hagee_

It comes as little surprise that Springer could say, at a moment's notice, the exact day and year the Wreckers were conceived. He could go on about the most important dates leading up to their eventual creation and go on about the original mastermind behind the idea. The concept was culminated from Kup's stories but the mission, ethos and capabilities came from one of few superior officers Springer had come to care about while in the Security Force- Impactor.

Impactor's influence in the conduct and execution of the creation of the strike force was paramount and he was originally intended to be the Wrecker's first leader with Springer acting as his second. His death not only halted the birth of the Wreckers but also solidified Springer's resolve to retire from the military, disgusted with the way such a great leader was merely passed over as an 'unfortunate casualty'. And it wasn't until the Decepticons rose up that Springer dusted off the idea he hadn't had the spark to delete.

It was because of Impactor that Springer recalled those dates so clearly. The day they were unofficially created, the day they were officially sanctioned and it was in Impactor's memory that he remembered every day, every planet, every name of every Wrecker that fell in battle. Each one from the beginning to the present molded the strike force into one of the most fearsome groups in history.

And so they honored their fallen. From Impactor whose belief that great fighters of all rank should be as intelligent as they are strong to Long Shot and Rack'n'Ruin and Pitchback who died protecting what little was left of their home planet from Thunderwing. On the day Emirate Xaaron approved of the initial roster- long before a Prime agreed to recognize the strike force, long after Impactor had convinced the chairman of their use –they celebrated the inception of the Wreckers and the lives of those that made them great.

In Xantium, the Orbital Hub or overnight on a mission they always managed to keep with the tradition. It was a short and simple ceremony if it could even be called that. Two crossed rifles over an Autobot sigil and a short speech recalling why they're here, why they fight and why the Wreckers are willing to throw their lives away for what they believed in.

And then they'd spend the rest of the night together, telling stories of their fallen brethren, of missions past and the impossibilities they've accomplished. And they'd talk and laugh and drink until each of them passed out. They'd make no promises about being there to do the same the next year and the years beyond that because this was a war and they couldn't control who died and who didn't. It was just their job to protect those they could and if their lives were sacrificed to save another, they were okay with that.

And they kept the Wreckers alive and great.

* * *

JML: Never try to give Ratchet lip. Especially in his medbay XD 

Teh: Poor carpet, I'm sorry! D: And thanks for catching spelling errors because I'm bad at it.

FloofWolfe: You want Ratchet getting one over Megatron, you should read Marvel UK because... man.

Okami: Star Crossed continues to make me sad. I'm having trouble figuring out if Prowl will have a break down first or me ;.;


	49. Surprised Wreckers

What's Wrong with a Little Destruction?  
The Wreckers

The continuing awesomeness of IDW's top strikeforce!

Note: This is loosely based off something that happened a long time ago with my friend and her husband. The moral of the story: know your victim.

Also Note: Because a reviewer mentioned it, the idea was stuck in my head and I did a quick sketch and eventually colored (vaguely) cardshark!Sandstorm which can be found at ajremix. deviantart. com/ art/ TF-Aces-Wild-66228792, or the original .gif with the transparent background at i55. photobucket. com/ albums/ g129/ ajremix/ Transformers-AcesHigh. gif (just take out the spaces)

Also Also Note: More chapters may be slow in coming up as mid-terms are coming up at the end of the month and I've got a killer homework project in which I want to blow my class the hell away with. Thankfully I have a couple other drabbles already ready to go up but I can't guarantee daily updates will last for much longer.

* * *

11. Surprised Wreckers

_"If you keep groaning, please do it to a rhythm I can dance to."  
-Ashleigh Brilliant_

"I said I was sorry already! Primus!"

Topspin said nothing, just kept working as his systems were still in the process of booting up. Not that Whirl would care what Topspin would have to say as he wasn't the one being addressed. So the blue and white kept on his groggy task and listened to the helo getting frustrated at the lack of response.

"C'mon! I'm _sorry_! How many times do I have to say it?" His lanky arms went up, black hands spread in a very 'argh!' gesture. "You should know better anyway!"

This got a reaction and Sandstorm glared over Topspin's stabilizer but otherwise did nothing. Topspin stifled a sigh and kept right on with the repairs. Technically he wasn't set to be in the medbay at that moment (though, technically, he was never set to just the medbay since the Wreckers was such a small group. Whenever anyone needed Topspin they found him or someone dragged them to him since none of them liked being tied to the medbay- even their medic) but he onlined, did his post-recharge constitutional with a container of energon and just happened to pass by the medbay where Whirl had dragged him inside and to a table. It took Topspin a good couple of nano-kliks to realize he was standing in front of Sandstorm and was expected to do something. Took even longer for him to realize that something probably had to do with the gaping wound at the triplechanger's shoulder.

Whirl drew in a long take of air through his fans. "Look," he said in a very measured way, "I'm sorry. I didn't mean it. Honest."

"Didn't _mean_ it?" Sandstorm finally exploded. Topspin winced as the noise rattled in his processor. "Does _this_," he jabbed a finger towards the gouges and exposed wires, "look like you 'didn't mean it'?"

"Hey- that's _your_ fault, alright?"

"_MY_ fault!?" He nearly leapt from the table and even more nearly almost knocked Topspin over. "I try to have a couple words with someone I _thought_ was my buddy and my nearly getting amputated is _MY_ fault??"

This time Whirl looked indignant (as indignant as a one-optic, no mouth component mech could). "You're the one that grabbed me from behind! You know surprising a Wrecker is the fastest way to get the slag beat out of you and- lookit this!" Whirl brandished his hands. "I have _rotary blades_ for fingers in this mode! And you _know_ how sharp these things are!"

"We're on Xantium at the Primus fragging Orbital Hub! What the frag do you have to be so paranoid about?"

"Instinct isn't something you just switch off, slagging moron!"

"And he says he's sorry?" Topspin muttered to himself. That caused him to get a singular glare while Sandstorm looked as smug as someone with a partially working arm could.

"Yeah- where's all this repenting at?"

"I'm. Sorry." Whirl said very, very slowly. "I didn't _mean_ to stab you. It was an instinctive reaction. If someone came up from behind and tried to pin you down, you'd do the same." He gave Sandstorm a look, daring him to argue.

Wisely the triplechanger didn't. Instead he merely groused, "Okay- yeah. It was kinda stupid, I'll give that to ya."

"What a beautiful, touching moment. My fuel pump may stutter." Topspin drawled, moving away from Sandstorm and back to his yet unfinished and now very lukewarm energon. "Now get out and leave me alone."

The other two Wreckers looked at each other, then back at the medic. "Spin," Sandstorm said, "I don't think you noticed but I'm kinda damaged here."

"Oh yeah, I noticed." He said, sipping at his energon despite the fact it tasted disgusting at that temperature.

"……so?"

"There's no permanent or major damage. They were all clean slices, your automated repairs already clamped on all the leaking tubes. All I had to do was cement a couple linking rods together, redirect your electrical flow and replace a couple broken circuits and a rotator. The rest your repairs can handle." He shrugged a bit. "Well, except your armor, but I don't feel like fabricating parts right now."

Sandstorm's optic visor narrowed. "Okay." He said dryly. "My shoulder hurts like a slagging glitch."

"Not my problem." Topspin said with a charming smile. "You're the one that had to go and jump someone with blades for hands now didn't you? Consider it a lesson learned. Or go ask Ratchet to patch you up- that's always a good time." The medic raised a hand cheerfully to them. "Toodles!" And went to go get a warm refill.

The other two stayed silent in the medbay for a long moment.

"This is all your slagging fault." Sandstorm glared.

Whirl put a hand over his optic and wondered just how they'd explain this to Springer. "Just… shut up."

* * *

Casus Fere: All you need is love, baby XD

FloofWolfe: Man, just look up Ratchet on the TF Wiki because... really, there is no way for me to explain probably _the_ most nightmare inducing creature I have seen in a comic. If I saw that in real life I probably would've killed myself in terror XDD

Teh: What I think is one of my favorite things about the Wreckers (and most specialty groups) isn't just the fact that they're a group of individuals, but also the sum of their parts. They all bring something to this group identity that is fairly unique from, say, the gestalt teams or Dinobots.

Hellsfirescythe: ...I don't have time for another RP. I really don't. I really really really don't. Really really really really really don't. I would have a much better time convincing myself that if I didn't hang out with instigators. Especially as I struggle to keep myself from asking was Deadzone is ..


	50. Covered in Flowers Wreckers

What's Wrong with a Little Destruction?  
The Wreckers

The continuing awesomeness of IDW's top strikeforce!

Note: Have you noticed how much I love punchlines?

* * *

12. Covered in Flowers Wreckers

_"I got killer buds / A power stem / Nasty pods / And I'm using them!"  
-Levi Stubbs_

They all stood there considering. "Thoughts?" Springer asked a little dryly.

Roadbuster hummed deep in his engine. "It is possible we could make use of this, but since the Decepticons have been here for several meta-cycles they're most likely aware of the terrain and the hazards." He tilted his head to the side, considering. "Of course the grunts tend to not be too bright. We could probably weed out the dumber ones with these." There were some snickers at the pun.

"If you can come up with something, we can implement it." He turned to Topspin. "Analysis?"

The hovercraft looked through the readouts from the tests and scowled. "The corrosive probably will end up doing something to our armor in the long term, but it's just strong enough I'd worry what it would do if it ended up getting to the more delicate circuitry."

The triplechanger nodded. "Run some more tests so Roadbuster can come up with a decent plan. Twin Twist- get 'em down."

"Roger that!" The driller transformed with a little cackle, twin drills whirling happily away.

Scoop's legs- the only things that stuck out from the giant, carnivorous flower that had snatched him up –flailed as he radioed them angrily. "NEXT TIME CAN WE BE ENTHRALLED WHEN I'M _NOT_ BEING SLOWLY DIGESTED BY A GIANT FRAGGING PLANT?!"

* * *

FloofWolfe: Yeah, it took me a moment to realize that's what they were, too.

Teh: Thank you! It seems to me the better the quote, the harder is was for me to find them XD

Dragon of Despair: -splorfles-

Tomorrow: Haha, oh no! Now I have the idea of them sitting around playing D&D in the middle of a barrage XDD


	51. Request: Optimus Prime and Wreckers

What's Wrong with a Little Destruction?  
The Wreckers

The continuing awesomeness of IDW's top strikeforce!

Note: Requested by FloofWolfe. Takes place between Spotlight: Kup and Escalation.

* * *

Request: Optimus Prime and Wreckers 

_"Just because everything is different doesn't mean anything has changed."  
-Irene Peter_

Sometimes it was really annoying taking communications on the bridge.

"So Megatron really is there, huh?" Springer scoffed. "Can't say I envy that post."

"Reports so far have been quiet. Megatron seems to be reorganizing his detachment." The Autobot leader said. As the Wreckers' official orders came only from him, Optimus Prime had figured it best to let the strike force know just where he had gone off to.

Springer settled back in the command chair of Xantium. "But you're expecting him to make a move soon, right? This _is_ Megatron, after all."

"No seriously- look! As blocky as a glitch!"

"Primus, what's his alt mode? A cube?"

"Of course. The entire planetary network is wired through Teletraan so any move they make will be caught immediately." Prime's blue helmet dipped with a slight nod.

The triplechanger couldn't help but grin. "Don't tell me you expected less from enthusiasts being led by a perfectionist."

"All his weapons are gone!"

If Optimus Prime was hearing any of the secondary comments on his new appearance, he didn't show it. Which Springer had to respect because he wanted to throw something at the loud, eavesdropping idiots. He did, however, tilt his head in amusement. "Springer- did you just compliment Prowl?"

He waved a hand. "Merely a professional observation. You try to tell him otherwise and you'll crash his battlecomputer."

"Okay- there's bulky and then there's just _awkward_."

"The only potential good I can think is maybe there's lots of compartment space in those forms."

"No matter the precautions, I've already sent for backup, but if things escalate too quickly," and with the presence of Megatron and Ore-13 it's a fair bet, Optimus Prime didn't say, "I want your Wreckers to be close-by for just in case purposes."

"Slag that- I'm not going on that planet."

"Not if they don't have an alt mode where I can keep my rifles."

Springer's dental plates ground together and he resisted the urge to shoot a glare at the bridge crew. "No problem, Prime. You want us, you know where to call."

"Of course." He nodded and then hesitated slightly. "And thank you. For what you did for Kup."

That made Springer pause, looking away as a slight pang of guilt hit him for everyone sacrificed on that mission and the broken state of his mentor and friend. "Preceptor's keeping me updated on his condition. Anything changes, I'll let you know."

He nodded again. "Prime out."

Silence reigned a bit uncomfortably over Xantium. Finally Twin Twist raised his head up and said loudly, "Why do they have to be such primitive planets? Why can't we ever go somewhere slightly more advanced?"

Springer's optics flickered to the driller but he said nothing. Sandstorm picked up on the line, though. "Yeah. Primus, that planet has no aesthetic value, does it?"

That made the green triplechanger blink. "Since when did you care about aesthetic value?"

"Since I don't want to look like I just came out of a compactor."

"Hey- wait!" Topspin suddenly blurted. "Isn't Sunstreaker part of that detachment?"

The implication sat heavily over the bridge for a moment and then Springer burst out laughing, slapping a hand on the arm of his seat. "HAHAHA! Can you imagine him as a giant, obnoxiously yellow box?"

The rest of them snickered badly, picturing a cubed sociopath of a fighter bemoaning the loss of his sleek curves. "Okay," Twin Twist amended, "I'll go to that planet _once_. Just to laugh at him."

* * *

Jason: I suspect Audrey's interior isn't all that roomy XD

FloofWolfe: I like Figueroa's designs a lot. He manages to make giant bulky robots look sleek.

Teh: Funny you should say that...

Khareesa: -snickers- I have that very same image in my head, too! I may have to sketch it out when I have the time.

VAWitch: I don't think I'll ever need an excuse for Springer and Prowl to be at each other's throats XDD

Cafei: Thank you! Have you been sufficiently inspired? (totally not up for bribing you if need be, whut?)


	52. Request: Jazz versus Wreckers

What's Wrong with a Little Destruction?  
The Wreckers

The continuing awesomeness of IDW's top strikeforce!

Note: Requested by Dragon of Despair and Teh. Takes place sometime after Colorful Wreckers/Kup and Wreckers.

* * *

Request: Jazz versus Wreckers 

_"Revenge is an act of passion; vengeance of justice. Injuries are revenged; crimes are avenged."  
-Samuel Johnson_

He should've seen this coming- he really should've. But he didn't and now they were all paying the price for it and they came together, to him in a silent demand to be lead to vengeance. Springer turned the situation over in his processor, trying to figure out the best course of action.

The only thing he could come up with was wondering if Prowl had put the saboteur up to this to get back at Springer for what happened last time. He wouldn't put it passed him. Slagging tight aft.

"Alright." When Springer looked at the assembled Wreckers it took more effort to ignore the bright and stylized splashes of pink paint than he could the cracked helms and leaks during battles. "Forget points, forget anyone else. The first one to tag Jazz wins. Period. You can work as a team if you want- you can fragging dog-pile the mech and pour paint all over him –I just want him tagged." Springer, like the rest of the team, had his fair share of bright pink practically glowing over his chassis. With a tight, business-like collective nod the Wreckers went off to find their target- vengeance promised all over their faceplates.

Instead of following the rest of the team through the Orbital Hub, Springer headed back to Xantium, unable to take the pain of such a vibrant color against his tamer tones. He should've known better. There was no way Jazz, swaggering up with that too-wide grin and knowing look, would ask to join in on something like the Wreckers' 'stealth training' without turning it into some sort of trouble. Especially since no one _still_ had managed to tag the black and white yet.

……

"_Wreckers!_" Springer's voice snapped harshly over their radios. "_I don't care how, I don't care why, I don't care what trouble you get into- I want Jazz's cranial unit brought to me on something _sharp. Pointy. _And preferably_ not sterilized!_ That slagger siphoned all the liquids out of Xantium's washrack!_"

* * *

Kyarorin: Optimus must have an infinite well of patience having to deal with the kind of 'bots he does without resorting to violence XD

Dragon: Ah yes, but they're Wreckers! The threat of death (or great bodily harm) makes the experience that much more fun!

Teh: Ta-da!

Cafei: -starts chiseling away at the block?- Er... the art block. Not the Sunstreaker block.

FloofWolfe: -pats- Aw, hope you had a good night's rest ):


	53. Request: Prowl versus Springer

What's Wrong with a Little Destruction?  
The Wreckers

The continuing awesomeness of IDW's top strikeforce!

Note: Requested by VAWitch. Takes place not long after Jazz versus Wreckers.

Also Note: Wow, that last chapter had, hands down, _the_ most replies of the series! (can feel the jazz love) This chapter was set to go up in a couple days but after those responses I decided to toss it up earlier.

* * *

Request: Prowl versus Springer

_"Which, if not victory, is yet revenge."  
-John Milton_

Springer stood in front of Prowl's desk, jaw set, shoulders rigid in a parade rest that just thrummed with ire. Prowl carefully hid his vast amount of amusement at the obvious impatience enhanced all the more with bright pink paint.

"You do realize this is a very serious incident, don't you?" He asked calmly, not getting- or expecting –a response. "Having eight mechs- all of fairly large stature –charging around haphazardly, yelling out threats to a ranked officer and generally causing all sorts of havoc is a big security issue." Prowl folded his immaculate white hands on his desk. "You're very lucky that not only has your team been called for a mission, but that no one has gotten hurt. This will be dealt with upon your return."

"Understood." Came the deep, angry rumble.

He couldn't help it, doorwing twitching in faint amusement and Prowl just had to add, "I don't know how you thought you'd be able to catch Jazz. Not even our top three trackers working together can catch him when he doesn't want to be."

That thousand mile stare turned into a glare as Springer's optics narrowed on to the tactician. "If that's all," he said tightly, "we're going to hit the washracks and get on our way."

"Of course." He waited until Springer was two steps from his door before he said, "You do realize that the officer's washracks are closed for maintenance, correct?"

The triplechanger rocked to a halt and slowly twisted to view Prowl with an unamused expression. "The enlisted washracks are fixed, aren't they?"

Prowl canted his head and said in a perfectly level and serious tone. "But you're an officer."

"…" Said Springer. "I am also covered in paint. And we don't have time to refill Xantium's washracks."

"Nevertheless, unless it is an emergency," he continued smoothly, "officers should not be using enlisted facilities. Protocol dictates-"

"_Don't_-" Springer cut himself off, hands raised like he wanted to strangle something at that moment. "Don't," He said in a forcefully more level tone, "cite your slagging protocols at me right now."

Raising an optic ridge, Prowl complied, sitting back in his chair with his arms crossed. Springer glared right back before turning around. "Fine. Whatever."

"And Springer," he just had to add, "be sure to deal with those paint splotches before your return or I'll have to add being out of regulation appearance to your list of offenses."

Tight, strangled noises came out of Springer's vocalizer as he stood, shoulders high, head down, trying to keep himself from whirling around and launching himself at Prowl. Finally he half-turned and sneered darkly at the other mech. "I hate you so much right now." He stalked off swiftly before his self control snapped.

The door slid shut and Prowl waited until the sound of heavy stomps faded before he braced his chevron against a hand finally allowed himself to _laugh_.

Oh, he owed Jazz big.

* * *

Okami: You're not the only one surprised that I can keep this up XDD

Tecuma: Lucky! D: I haven't had the chance to get to a comic book store yet!

Cafe: You better have a fast shutter speed then, because the second that chisel touches him, I'm in the next hemisphere.

Everyone else: Thank you so much for your responses! I'm glad you liked that last chapter so much!


	54. Request: Twins and Wreckers II

What's Wrong with a Little Destruction?  
The Wreckers

The continuing awesomeness of IDW's top strikeforce!

Note: Requested by Teh. It's the twins! Of course I had to put it in there somewhere!

* * *

Request: Twins and Wreckers II

_"Great. Now we can shoot at those bastards from every direction."  
-General Chesty Puller_

It was risky and dangerous and absolute suicide. Which was exactly why the Wreckers were going in. Three of their air squad swept in, scattering the plethora of Seekers as a shuttle with the rest of the team swooped towards the Decepticon base. Springer- having lost the coin toss to Roadbuster and was stuck having to direct logistics from the rear after this drop –set the shuttle to hover and called back to the gathered crew, "Last stop- turbine kicking central! Everyone off!"

Before anyone could stop him Sideswipe leapt out of the hatch with a cry of "JET JUDO!"

"_What in Primus slagging hell-_"

The Wreckers all stuck their heads outside the craft (Sunstreaker took his twin's apparent suicide with much nonchalance) and gaped as Sideswipe angled his body in the wind to get a grip on some unfortunate Seeker and harass the Pit out of him.

"Wha…" Scoop boggled, "What was _that_?"

Sunstreaker merely shrugged. "Jet judo." But a smirk ghosted over his lips as he jumped out and on to the nearest Decepticon that was targeting his brother.

The Wreckers stood speechless in the shuttle, shocked that they were shocked by the display of utter lack of self-preservation. Finally Topspin grinned broadly, tossing the jetpack he was supposed to be using back on the seats. "Better than being just a falling target!" With a cry of unholy glee, he jumped out.

Twin Twist looked at Springer who was looking back, still stunned. "I vote we keep them." Roadbuster put his hand on Twin Twist's shoulder and pushed him out. Scoop followed right after with a whoop.

Giving his leader a little salute he said, "See you back in the rear."

"Roger that. And Roadbuster- be sure those two are kept in one piece. They're only on loan, after all."

* * *

Kyarorin: I have far too much fun with their interactions XD

VAWitch, Teh: I'm a firm believer that Prowl actually does have a sense of humor. It's just very, very dry and a little bit sadistic.

Cafei: (readies chisel) Hope you have high-speed.

Everyone else: Thank you for the reviews! I'm actually a little surprised that mini-storyline is so popular but... yes, I do in fact have more ideas to follow that line of thought :D


	55. Cunning Wreckers

What's Wrong with a Little Destruction?  
The Wreckers

The continuing awesomeness of IDW's top strikeforce!

Note: Takes place right after Twins and Wreckers II.

* * *

13. Cunning Wreckers 

_"All right, they're on our left, they're on our right, they're in front of us, they're behind us...they can't get away this time."  
-General Chesty Puller_

The battle, all things considered, was not one of the better ones. And by better, most would assume it meant they weren't under attack by as many of the enemy as the Wreckers tend to be. Of course what most would assume generally tends to be very different from what the Wreckers actually think to be vastly different.

To them the battle going 'better' would be how much they'd be dominating the field. A nice big body count was also helpful, but not exactly necessary provided there was skill to make up for the quantity. This place, though? It was like… off-world Seeker Academy or something. They had the quantity and they had some bit of quality but not enough of either to be much challenge (or fun) for the Autobots. It was, in fact, more of a chore.

As Whirl, Sandstorm and Broadside shrieked through the sky with engines and weapons burning, Roadbuster and the twins set up a perimeter at the entrance to the Decepticon base while the remaining three dashed inside with explosives to rig in all sorts of places to make the place go all explodey.

"So," Sunstreaker started almost conversationally at Roadbuster's side, handling the assault weapon as the precision weapon it wasn't created to be, "we're utterly surrounded. I hope you already accounted for this."

Roadbuster grinned under his facemask, shooting down another Seeker trying to get inside the base. "Absolutely. All part of the plan. Now they can't run away."

"Conversely, neither can we."

He paused long enough in his killing of things to give Sunstreaker an odd look. "You want to retreat?"

"_No_. I'm just saying," he ducked briefly as someone managed to get in firing range before Sideswipe took them down with his shoulder cannon, "that once the base is rigged to blow we'll have a hell of a time trying to get out of the blast radius!"

Roadbuster continued to look at Sunstreaker. The yellow warrior grew a little concerned. "You did think of that, right?"

"…" Said Roadbuster. "Of course I did!"

"Then what's the plan to evac?"

"…"

"…" He drew back. "You really _didn't_ think of it, did you??"

Roadbuster scoffed. "Yes, actually, I did."

"Then what-"

"_Alright, targets,_" Springer's voice came up over their radios. "_Demolitions are primed- bail out!_"

"Roger that." The large Wrecker replied. "Sunstreaker! Sideswipe! We're moving!" The two fighters turned to watch Roadbuster… run into the base?

"What the slag is going on!?" Sideswipe blurted.

Sunstreaker- looking at Roadbuster quickly dwindling in the hall and a group of Seekers that finally managed to get some kind of attack formation going –grabbed his brother by one of his horns and jerked him inside. "I don't know but I'm not getting left behind!" They charged through the maze of halls, fast enough that by the time they finally caught up to Roadbuster they were wherever their destination ended up being.

"A hangar?" Sideswipe asked, fans whirling loudly from the mad dash. "_Whoa_- is that a-"

"Yup." Roadbuster waved the two forward. "Get in- we're taking off!"

Inside the ship, Twin Twist, Topspin and Scoop were already gearing the ship for takeoff. "Strap in and hold on to your skidplates!" The medic told them with a wave. "This is gonna be a fun trip!"

The twins exchanged glances. "Fun as in?"

"As in none of us has ever done a forced takeoff before. Someone blast those hangar doors open?" 'Blast' was an understatement as Scoop didn't manage to get the guns working but let loose one of the missiles instead. The concussion from the close-quarters explosion nearly rocked the ship from its landing gears and- if not for the harnesses –everyone from their seats. He had the good grace to look sheepish as everyone glared.

"Oops?"

Roadbuster just gruffed. "Topspin- get us out before someone starts sticking their nosecone in our flight path."

The Decepticon battlecruiser tore out of the hangar (just as was predicted, very roughly and unevenly without proper clearance and guidance), knocked a couple Seekers down in the escape and- clearing the minimum effective range –set off the demolitions inside the base. They watched the destruction from three different views- the ship's rear camera, the planet's satellite system and Xantium's own video feed –and threw up their hands cheering.

"Woo-hoo!"

"Niiiiiice!"

"Gentlebots, we do good work!"

As the backslapping began to lapse, Sideswipe had to turn and ask, "Hey, RB- how did you know the cruiser was in there?"

"I didn't." He said seriously. The twins paused.

"Wait- _didn't_?"

"Nope. Twin Twist found the ship while they were setting charges."

Sunstreaker jabbed an accusing finger at him. "I knew you didn't think of a way to get us out of there!"

"I did." He looked insulted.

They boggled. "Then what was your plan?" The yellow twin asked, voice rising.

Roadbuster shrugged. "We were supposed to use the jetpacks and leave with our air support. Except the two of you did your little jet judo thing and no one took their packs. So we were just winging it."

"What're you talking about?" Sideswipe blurted. "I always have a jetpack!" His jaw snapped shut and he turned to his brother. "Sunstreaker?"

Sunstreaker's shoulders absently twitched, noting the distinctive lack of anything resting on his back. "Er…" his expression lit up, "None of the others did, either!"

Topspin, Twin Twist and Scoop looked at each other, then Roadbuster and none of the four had a jetpack. Twin Twist shrugged. "Yeah, but we knew Roadbuster would come up with an escape plan."

Sunstreaker's optics flickered at the logic. "But he didn't come up with anything until you were in the base!"

"Yeah, but we're still alive _and_ we have a battlecruiser!"

"Besides," Roadbuster couldn't help but add, "the best way to make sure no one has a chance to mess up your plan is to make it up as you go."

* * *

Hellsfirescythe: I don't know how most would take it, but if I had all this weaponry attached to me on a regular basis and then had to go some place where they were all taken away, I'd probably cry.

Teh: Hehehe, I felt the quote did after I typed the story up XD

FloofWolfe: The twins is an automatic mention of jet judo somewhere, after all!

Lightningmouse: I'm glad you liked it!

Bookworm: Haha, I tend to not review much because I'm lazy and don't like leaving just 'zomg i love it do more!!!' reviews, so I'm very thankful whenever anyone takes the time to review for me at all. I'm glad you're enjoying these so much!


	56. Request: Hot Rod, Arcee and Springer II

What's Wrong with a Little Destruction?  
The Wreckers

The continuing awesomeness of IDW's top strikeforce!

Note: Requested by VAWitch and Kyarorin. Set not long after Hot Rod, Arcee and Springer.

Also Note: Midterms coming up in two weeks, two major homework assignments due in three. Consider the slow down starting now.

WARNING: BADTOUCHING AHEAD

* * *

Request: Hot Rod, Arcee and Springer II

_"Three keys to more abundant living: caring about others, daring for others, sharing with others."  
-William Arthur Ward_

The credits played over the monitor and Springer took the time to stretch out the servos in his back as best he could. He sat on the floor, leaning against Arcee's couch with the femme tucked comfortably under one arm, her legs propped up on Hot Rod's back who cushioned his head and arms in turn on Springer's lap. He should probably move. Or something. But Springer found himself quite contented right where he was with the two 'bots that meant the most to him.

They did not- despite whatever off-color rumors the rest of the Wreckers might say –just go off and overcharge each other and in fact their favorite way to relax with just the three of them was to sit around and riff bad movie until someone ended up spewing energon all over the screen. This one was so particularly terrible they zoned out of it not even halfway through, talking, teasing, flirting until recharge slowly drifted up on them.

Except for Springer. Even with the subtle vibrations from Hot Rod and Arcee and the Hub running through his sensors it was too quiet for him to feel secure enough to recharge. Even if there was sufficient enough noise his processor would be cataloguing each wave of sound, keeping him from getting any rest. The hazards of always having to be on guard, he supposed.

He reached out, idly, and ran a thumb over the edge of Hot Rod's spoiler. The younger mech shifted a little, but did little else. Springer's hand followed the line of yellow metal to the curve of chrome tubing, down to the gap of armor at his back. Springer didn't like thinking about that lack of protection right there, even though Hot Rod assured him no important parts were located there. Besides, he once said with a shrug, the only way someone could hit him there was if he ran away. And he never ran away.

Or, Springer didn't tell him, someone snuck up from behind. He also didn't tell him something important was there because it was a part of him. He didn't have to because Arcee said it with more eloquence and vehemence than he ever could (femme could rip into someone like no one Springer's ever seen before). But sometimes, like at this moment, he didn't exactly mind the gap so much.

His hand slipped over the metal plating- meager protection at best –and mesh grill, hand angling a little uncomfortably to get underneath. Hot Rod shifted again and the rumbling of his engine increased just a fraction- enough for Springer to feel it through his legs. Springer pushed in deeper, feeling the mass of fine metal wires and following the curve of the regenerator to his closed cycle engine- just the edge of it, anyway. If he pressed in as far as he could Springer could just graze his fingertips over Hot Rod's swashplate and that resulted in a shaky little noise and the twitch of a hand over green armor.

He eased out a bit, turned his hand over and pulled lightly at the cables he came across, knowing every little gear and cog not by their name or function but as 'this makes Hot Rod quiver stroking it this way' or 'he's ticklish right here' or 'he makes the most amazing sound when I do _this_'.

Hot Rod shifted more against Springer, drawing a little higher on his legs, arcing his back just slightly, muffling a moan against armor. He could feel Hot Rod's intake flutter air against the seams in his leg and Springer's arm around Arcee dropped a bit more so he could get the leverage to really get that engine going.

"I would be absolutely envious," Arcee's voice ghosted over the cables of Springer's neck, "if I weren't turned on."

Springer's blue optics slid over to her, his grin mirroring her own wicked, impish smirk. "There goes my plan to send you into a jealous rage." He said, tilting his head to scrape his helmet softly against hers. She smiled back, fingering the pivot rings under his chestplate.

"The only thing I'm jealous of is his getting all your attention." Arcee turned her head to blow air down the seam at his neck and was delighted by the slight shivered response. "Did you know you have wonderful hands?"

"Of course." His hand filled the curve just over her hip component, creeping enticingly over the lines of panels until he reached the edge of her chestplate. "Why do you think I'm always putting them on you?" He did something nimble that made Arcee stiffen and bit back a whimper. She glared half-heartedly at Springer's smug expression.

"Hey," another voice interrupted, "we were paying attention to me, here."

Arcee gave a rather indelicate snort and pushed her heel against Hot Rod's side. "Aren't you just the paragon of giving and modesty?"

"Absolutely." Hot Rod jerked a thumb towards his back. "Get back to stroking, will ya?"

The pink femme launched herself onto his back with an, "I'll stroke you!" The two rolled and tumbled, Arcee shrieking with laughter as Hot Rod caught her leg, running hands over rods he knew were ticklish on her. She returned the favor by fighting dirty, rolling under him, rubbing up against his curves, working him until he was stuttering and weak. Springer lounged back, watching and snickering as Arcee reduced the much larger mech to a mewling petro-bunny with a few well placed touches.

And then the two of them rolled right on top of him and they dissolved into a mound of limbs and shouts and laughter until someone pounded on the door and told them to shut up already.

* * *

FloofWolfe: Well, some might argue that faith is what keeps them alive :P

JML: ...you know I never thought of it like that before? And I _adore_ Burt!

Teh: Chesty Puller is one of the most inspirational men that have ever set foot in the military. The amount of respect the Corps still has for him is amazing.

Tomorrow: Thank you, I'm glad you like them!


	57. Stuck Wreckers

What's Wrong with a Little Destruction?  
The Wreckers

The continuing awesomeness of IDW's top strikeforce!

Note: Consider this payback from Cuddling Wreckers.

Also Note: Good news is I look to be on track with getting these two big projects done on time. The bad news is I just got another big assignment today due a week after these current two are due.

Also Also Note: Put up a quick sketch (and inking) of human!Scoop and Broadside on deviantArt page: ajremix(dot)deviantart(dot)com/art/Wreckers-Scoop-and-Broadside-67183166.

* * *

14. Stuck Wreckers 

_"Courage is endurance for one moment more."  
-Unknown_

When he onlined it was a painful shock. Partly because he was in pain, partly because he didn't recall offlining to begin with. Everything was dark and his scanners were fritzing on him. And then he realized he couldn't move.

He froze, unable to process this discovery for a klik, and then he began to panic.

"H…Hey… Hey! Someone…! I can't- I… I'm stuck! Somebody! Help, someone!" He started pulling, thrashing, trying to tug himself out but all he felt was pain and more pain. "Someone please! I-I can't… can't… I'm st…" His words trailed to a whimper, wriggling and felt something shift out of place in his legs.

"_Whirl? Whirl- can you hear me?_"

"Spin?" Whirl asked in a tiny voice. "I'm stuck, Spin. I can't move."

"_I'm here- don't worry. We're all here, buddy. Can you run a diagnostic? What's da-_"

"_Hey, Whirl!_" Twin Twist broke over the radio. "_Don't worry about a thing. Me and Scoop'll have you out no problem, okay? We got you in our scanners, it'll only be a coupla kliks 'till we got ya._"

"_Twist-_"

He broke Topspin's line again. "_How'd you get down here, anyway?_"

"I… I don't…" Whirl's processor ached working but he forced himself through it. "I was in the corridor. Finishing up the charges an' was meeting back up with Sandstorm. Then something… I-I don't know. There was an explosion and then… I'm h-here."

"_Hm. Sounds like that's when Mixmaster got a little chemical happy. Stumbled on his lab and he started tossing all these… I don't know what slag all at us. Destroyed the entire deck, though._"

"Well how long until I'm free?"

"_Not long._"

Whirl bit back a whimper and tried to focus just on the sound of Twin Twist's voice on his radio. "'Not long' isn't a time, Twist. I'm being crushed here!"

"_No you're not. The debris is packed tight, there's no way for them to shift downwards unless you had someone that didn't know a thing about clearing rubble taking care of it._" Twin Twist sounded proud. "_Aren't you lucky me and Scoop are here?_"

"I. Am being. Crushed!" Whirl all but shrieked back. "I know what not being crushed feels like and this isn't it!"

"_And I've spent most of my life underground and have seen more cave-ins than we've lost battles. I know a stable surface and this is stable._"

"I can feel your drills, Twist. I can feel the thrumming of your drills- _why are you using your drills_? I thought you said-"

"_Calm down. Freak._" Came the patient reply. "_This beam is too big and heavy to move on it's own so I'm drilling it into sections. Springer doesn't have your kind of lift._"

"Get me out, Twist. Get me out, please, please just get me out. I can't move and I hurt and I'm being crushed and I can't- I can't do this!"

"_Hey, hey. It's alright. I'll get you outta there, promise._" There was a brief lapse of silence and Whirl filled it with little noises of distress. "_You should be able to feel some air movement, right?_"

"Yes. _Yes_." Whirl strained to get closer to the bit of current and shuddered in relief, trying to wriggle a bit more.

"_We've almost got you, okay? Just a little bit longer- can you tough it out for me?_"

Whirl nodded his head- to feel the air move down the length of his head than to really answer. "Y-Yeah. Yeah, I can."

"_Good._" Topspin started talking about the battle that Whirl missed out on, chatting away, letting the helo ask questions or just respond. Every now and then more air was cycled in Whirl's little nook and each breeze was a comfort to him. Finally light started shining through and the last of the rubble was cleared off of the lanky white body. Broadside crouched down and very carefully cradled Whirl in his large hands, setting him down on the ground where Topspin checked over him.

The other Wreckers stood back and Scoop looked over and assessed the damage of the corridor. The deck that Topspin had mentioned was actually three that fell on Whirl, the debris was indeed packed tight together but it was also slowly sinking on the helo. And every time Twin Twist had to pause in his digging to let Scoop and Springer clear rubble the driller had created air holes and had Sandstorm kneel over them, cycling air down through his vents.

"So," the shovel asked lowly, "you think he knows you lied about everything?"

Twin Twist let out a huff. "Better that than the alternative. I've known _miners_ go crazy during a cave-in. Whirl isn't meant for enclosed spaces- given half a chance and knowing how little hope he actually had, I don't want to know how he'd react." Quietly he watched Topspin working on some quick patches, asking Whirl quiet questions and indicating for Springer to get ready for transport. "He'll be okay. That's all that matters."

* * *

FloofWolfe: They do say the more the merrier for a reason, I suppose :P 

Okami: It would be a sexy sandwich :D

VAWitch: Haha, I'm very good at pulling things out of my ass- that's why I always got good grades in English XD And MSTing movies is very theraputic!

JML: I'll bet Mythbusters was banned from Ark-19. Don't want to be giving Wheeljack ideas. Especially if an explosion-happy group like the Wreckers find out about it.

Kyarorin, Blazer, Hellsfirescythe: Thank you, I'm glad you enjoyed it!


	58. Lonely Wreckers

What's Wrong with a Little Destruction?   
The Wreckers 

The continuing awesomeness of IDW's top strikeforce!

Note: I'm just on a woobie roll. References to Caring, Greedy and First Time Wreckers.

* * *

15. Lonely Wreckers 

_"He who does not feel his friends to be the world to him, does not deserve that the world should hear of him."  
-Johann Wolfgang von Goethe_

Bored.

Bored bored bored bored.

Primus Scoop hated this. Even in jobs as demanding as the Wreckers tended to get it was a rare thing for any of them to be unfit for full duty for long and even more rare for them to have to sit out entire missions. This was probably the first time (that he was aware of) in which one of them had to stay behind on the Orbital Hub while the others went off doing what they did best. Not even when Topspin had to fabricate and attach and entire new leg for Twin Twist or when Roadbuster had to get his fuel injector replaced were they laid up for this long. Of course Ratchet had nearly blown his processor when he found out about these incidents (particularly Roadbuster's) and literally beat off any attempt the Wreckers made to smuggle Scoop out of the medbay.

And now, by himself, alone, with no way to move, no where to go and no one to talk to, Scoop was irrevocably bored. And lonely.

It wasn't fair how much he missed being with the other Wreckers. They were his crew, his buddies, they were his brothers and now he was forced away from them because of a stupid injury. He was the newest member on the team but slag all if he hadn't earned it. It was his proudest moment when he was picked out, from a prestigious list of other hopefuls, to fill the slot in the roster and it rippled on to his first mission and the way the others laughed and slapped his shoulders, impressed at his display of ingenuity and steel manifolds. He _earned_ it, Primus slaggit! He worked and fought and bled for the right to stand shoulder to shoulder with the most infamous team of Autobots in history. He earned the right to prank on Whirl and Sandstorm, to run from Topspin's scalpel, to sit on Broadside's shoulders, to tell Springer when the fortifications he wanted were unfeasible. He suffered and hurt and pushed his limit until he was able to be everything the Wreckers needed and more and now he was being told 'no'.

It was… just unfair. And that hurt more than any battle wound.

Because he should be out there, fighting, straining, protecting his closest comrades. It was his right and his duty to be there, getting shot at with his brothers, dying with his brothers and he was being denied that which he worked so hard for. Now, lying bored and alone with nothing but his thoughts and the knowledge that the others hadn't left him without a fight (even promising he'd stay on Xantium to no avail) he still couldn't help the feeling that he'd been abandoned.

"Stupid." He muttered darkly, arm thrown over his optics. "Stupid, stupid, stupid."

"'llo! Anyone home?"

Scoop lifted his arm to find bodies shuffling in as lax as ever. "Twist? Guys?"

Broadside put a large crate he'd been carrying on a nearby table and then went to Scoop's side, pushing the digger to one side so he could rest a large, pale thigh on the berth. "How're you feeling?"

"Fine- what… what're you guys doing here already?"

"Aw, now that just hurts." Sandstorm said. "We come by to check up on our buddy and get the third degree. Kinda hits ya right here." He tapped a fist over his spark.

"No, no!" Scoop protested, levering himself up by Broadside's leg. "I mean- is the mission done already?"

Roadbuster put the case he was carrying down next to the pile of crates Broadside, Whirl and Topspin had been carrying. "It was an easy one. Just an extraction, barely even worth calling it a firefight."

And Scoop missed it and he felt like a failure in missing it. Easy or not he should've been there, competing with Twin Twist on who could make the most elaborate and deadly traps. Or throwing out the cheesiest, most inappropriate lines with Roadbuster and Broadside in the middle of battle. And he missed it all.

Scoop gave a little yelp as Twin Twist suddenly plopped most of his weight on the driller's shoulders. "What's with that look? Don't tell me you didn't enjoy your little vacation! What, with Ratchet around to care for you with that impeccable bedside manner of his."

He didn't dignify that with a response and instead asked, "What's with all those crates? Was there a pick-up?"

"Not exactly." Springer reached into one of the boxes and brought out some managed piece of… something. "Ratchet said everything from your lumbar to coccyx components were slagged and he didn't have the materials to fix you up. So while we were out fieldstripping 'cons for weapons, Topspin went through the bodies and started tearing them up."

The medic grinned broadly, hopping up on the table and pulled out even more bits. "Yup! Got filum fibers, dura mater platings, sacral columns, medullaris joints- all in various sizes and for various skeletal types." Topspin waved what looked like part of a spinal column at Scoop. It flopped a little. "We'll make sure Ratchet's got ya up and running before the end of the shift. Guarantee!"

Scoop's optics were wide and he was absolutely speechless- so much he couldn't even kickstart his processor. Finally a tentative, wobbly smile spread over his face and Scoop ducked his head, trying to hide the emotion that was overwhelming him. "You guys," he said, vocalizer tight and just so happy, "are insane."

That's just what he loved best about them.

* * *

Well, I uploaded this chapter up this late (early) because I wasn't tired and all of the sudden I want to crash out so bad I can't think up proper replies to everyone that reviewed. So thanks for reviewing and I'll try to get to all the requests I can! And now I'm gonna-zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz 


	59. Cleaning a Mess Wreckers

What's Wrong with a Little Destruction?

The Wreckers 

The continuing awesomeness of IDW's top strikeforce!

Note: Takes place soon after the flashback mission in Spotlight: Hot Rod.

Also Note: The wonderfully talented Cafei made an amusing comic for the drabble series on her dA page! For those of you that have yet to see it: cafei(dot)deviantart(dot)com/art/WWLD-Ultimate-Frisbee-67527919. I still giggle over it every time XD

* * *

16. Cleaning a Mess Wreckers

_"Maturity is achieved when a person accepts life as full of tension."  
-Joshua Loth Liebman_

Kup didn't call on the Wreckers often and he did it even less to ask them of anything because he knew Springer wouldn't hesitate to drop everything for the old mech, mission or not. But he also recognized there were some things Springer could do that he couldn't and one of them was getting through to young hotshots that took Kup's experienced advice as lectures. So Springer had taken one of Xantium's shuttles back to the Orbital Hub, leaving Roadbuster to lead the charge as he tried to talk Hot Rod out of doing something really, really stupid.

He could hear Hot Rod arguing loudly before he even saw the placard that labeled the door to Optimus Prime's office and leaned on the bulkhead opposite. Springer winced internally every now and again at Hot Rod's voice, especially when he not only recognized Prime's powerful rumble but also Prowl's soft, detached tone and Ironhide's hard-edged drawl. Oh yeah, they were going to get Hot Rod riled.

The door opened suddenly and Springer caught the tail end of a parting shot. "-know our command takes such great care of their lower ranks. I'll be sure to pass on your condolences to the bits of my team we didn't recover!"

For the brief moment the door stayed open, Springer caught Optimus Prime's optics. The Autobot leader nodded at him, gesturing at the officers by his side to let the young 'bot go, trusting Springer to take it from there.

"Roddy-"

"Springer!" A smile lit up Hot Rod's face but there was still fury boiling just under that. "Just the 'bot I wanted to see! Hey- the rest of the team around? I got a mission that's right up your alley-"

"I already know all about it."

"Well, that just makes it easier. C'mon, we hurry we can-"

"No, Hot Rod."

The red and yellow mech faltered. "…what?"

Springer steeled himself, knowing what was going to come. "No one is going anywhere, least of all you."

Hot Rod's expression grew dark and icy. "Springer, this is an Autobot's life that's on the line."

"I'm not letting you go."

"…You were ordered to do this, weren't you? This isn't something you'd say. This isn't even an order you'd follow."

"No. This is all me." The triplechanger spread his hands. "And I'm not letting you do this."

The words slowly sunk in Hot Rod's processor and his face twisted with anger and betrayal. "Won't _let_ me? Like you have any authority over me! I thought you were better than the rest of these _officers_ who care more about the mission than the ones that lose their lives over them." he jerked a thumb back at Prime's office. "I thought out of everyone I knew you'd understand the value of an individual's life!"

"That's not the issue here-"

"Then what is? You don't want me running around saving lives because that's the Wreckers' job? No one else but you can play the hero, huh?"

"You're not looking at the big picture-"

"Slag you and your Primus fragging big picture!" Springer stifled an exasperated sigh and wondered if this was how Prowl felt trying to get Springer to calm down and think in the academy. "You don't want to help? _Fine_. I'll do this on my own!"

"Hot Rod- don't. It's too dangerous to go alone!"

"I wasn't going to be alone!" He snapped back, stalking off. "I thought I had _you_- thanks for proving me wrong!"

A hand on Hot Rod's spoiler spun him around and another clamping on his neck ring slammed him into a wall. "Don't talk to me like I haven't been through this before, _kid_." Springer snarled in his face. "Any officer that's been in the field knows what losing someone feels like- one, five, a hundred- it never gets easier when you know they're putting their lives in your hands, trusting you to protect them while you toss them out into the thick of it. No one knows that better than me, than those back there you're bashing," he said, tossing his head back at Prime's office. "You're not going to help anyone- Dealer least of all –by going in half-cocked, all rage and no plan with nothing but your shortcomings burning in your processor!"

Springer eased back, vocalizer and expression softening. "I've been through that, too, Hot Rod. And all I did was get more people killed. I know you want to make things right, I know you're hurting and I know life is slagging unfair. But I'm your _friend_. And I'm saying don't do this because I don't want to lose you to your fears."

Hot Rod's jaw trembled and with a choked sound he rested his helmet against Springer's chest. "They _trusted_ me, dammit. It was an easy in, easy out and I _still_ messed everything up because of slagging _orders_ and… Springer, I just wanna make everything _right_."

He just wrapped his arms around the younger mech and held him tight. "I know, Hot Rod."

* * *

Tomorrow: The only way it could be better is if those parts were assembled by fledglings XD

VAWitch: Actually it's all 100 real (well, more like 90 as I shortened some of the terms) and it means everything from the curve of his lower back to his pelvic bone (to use an organic example) is gone. Well, it does now that I changed it from limbic to lumbar because- haha, limbic is something in the brain and losing that can't be good...

Teh: Woobie is, taking straight from Urban Dictionary "someone who is so cute/sad/adorable you want to hug and comfort them."

Casus: Only the Wreckers can pull of cute, angst and gruesome all at the same time. It's a talent.

Floof: (gives muse some soup?)

Cafei: Thank you! I suppose it was about time to actually see one of them laid out like that.

Jason: And there's plenty more insanity where that came from, I'm sure!

Vaeru: Well thank you! And so long as the only kids you're planning on having with me is an adopted 18 year old with their own place and lots of money, I accept your proposal! I'm glad you're enjoying this!

Okami: They probably do recycle bodies and components somehow but I wonder if they actually just rip out parts and transplant them straight into another body like that...


	60. Request: Ratchet and Topspin

What's Wrong with a Little Destruction?

The Wreckers 

The continuing awesomeness of IDW's top strikeforce!

Note: Requested by Tecuma and JML.

Also Note: Forgot to put this up in the last update, so I'll do it now for whoever hasn't seen it yet. I was asked to do a sketch of a scene from Stormbringer using the human Wreckers design I came up with a little while back. You can see it at ajremix(dot)deviantart(dot)com/art/Wreckers-Run-Away-67615157

* * *

Request: Ratchet and Topspin

_"Success is the proper utilization of failure."  
-Unknown_

Topspin groaned silently. Sometimes he really hated coming back to the Orbital Hub. He hated his liaison designation- mainly he hated the reasoning behind it.

"You're both medics," Springer had told him in a very 'better you than me' kind of way, "that's a conversation starter right there!"

Yeah right, he grumbled internally. The only reason why they passed on the medical liaison to him (asides from being a medic) was because none of them wanted to deal with Ratchet's fearsome temper more than they had to, the big slagging fledglings (of course the irony of the fact Topspin didn't want to do it for the exact same reason was lost to him).

This particular visit was the annual medical checkup that required all groups to send health reports to the CMO. It was also something Topspin will do and has done just about everything to get out of having to present it. He even tried the excuse of 'I'm too badly injured to go' except Ratchet found time to go aboard Xantium, fix Topspin and yell at him the entire time, covering everything from the report to the blue and white's idiocy.

("-this partial sight loss of Broadside's that you 'fixed' by telling him to double the strength of his image enhancer isn't medical procedure!"

"I just haven't gotten around to tinkering with it yet. It's not a real liability anyway."

"When will it be? When he gets shot in the head? And you do realize I haven't mentioned anything about you, correct?"

"I was hoping you wouldn't notice."

"You have no arm. It's difficult to notice something that _isn't there_.")

It drove Ratchet just as mad, too, because despite all the shortcuts Topspin made, he was a damn good medic- especially in the field. He had to be with all the action the Wreckers saw. So seeing someone of his skill doing barely passable work whenever he could made Ratchet's processor hurt.

"You need to stop depending so much on the automated repair system." Rather told him for the probably billionth and one time. "I know you Wreckers have the most recent upgrade and your self-repair is the fastest and most powerful in the army, but it's at a price you know. The strain it puts on your bodies is exponential to the damage you take. It only follows the programmed schematics, it can't actually tell what it's doing."

"Yes, Ratchet." Topspin said obediently and not at all with enthusiasm. Or attention. Which changed as a screwdriver bounced off his head. "Ow!"

"Don't patronize me!" Ratchet snapped. He tossed his hands up. "You were doing so well in med school- what in Primus' name happened to that?"

He rubbed at his head sourly. "The war is what happened."

"That's another thing I don't get. How can a medic be so eager to charge into battle like you?"

Topspin's familiar grin returned. "Hey, it's all part of my helping keep 'bots healthy. I just take it to the source- kill the enemy before they start wounding."

Ratchet rubbed at his face. "What kind of medic thinks like that?"

"Technically I never finished med school. Officially."

The CMO peered at Topspin from between his fingertips, not amused. Topspin took a sudden interest looking elsewhere and Ratchet returned to looking over the report. Reading through it he couldn't help but be impressed at not only the work the jumpstarter could do under pressure but also with the limited capabilities of a standard medical fieldkit (even if the Wrecker's standard was far beyond the regular army standard- medkits included). He raised an optic ridge when he reached the procedure used in mixing cement putty, flexiseal and splints to replace a ball joint that was shattered in the middle of battle. In the field Topspin was a medical pioneer and his meticulous reporting on his unorthodox methods never failed to impress.

Neither did some of his completely boneheaded stunts, either. He looked at the next report, read it, reread it and glowered. Topspin, sensing the imminent explosion, tried not to shrink back.

"You grafted a rifle." He said slowly, darkly. "To Broadside's arm."

Topspin openly winced. He knew Ratchet read through every report but he'd hoped the white mech would skip over that particular one. "Well, he had his hand blown off and I couldn't get him back to the rear." He babbled. "It wasn't even that bad after I clamped things down. It was really easy, he still had full use of his pistons so I just rigged-" The distinctive squeal of Retchet's dental plating grinding against each other made Topspin click his mouth shut.

"And you left him like that," he continued slowly, "until his systems forced him into stasis." Doubting Ratchet actually wanted him to say anything the blue and white shrugged. "In fact," he kept going in that coldly furious way, "you let them go into forced stasis a lot. Why?"

Topspin fidgeted, realized this and locked his body. "It's never when they're in serious condition or anything. And it's only when we're in the rear." He spread his hands, believing himself totally justified. "It's not forced stasis from their wounds, just the strain of their self-repair working is all. Besides- it's the closest thing to a full recharge any of them get!"

"You recharge by going into forced stasis?" Ratchet repeated, trying to understand the concept.

"We're battlefield mechs. If you're not aware, you're probably dead. It's against our programming to do a full recharge." Literally. When they became Wreckers they have certain safety locks disengaged, allowing constant information on every little movement, noise, pressure change to be fed to them. It made it impossible for any of them to do more than a couple cycles recharge at a time. And that's if they're lucky.

A long, pregnant pause descended on Ratchet's office. He flipped through the report quickly and Topspin felt very uneasy at the considering look on his faceplate. Ratchet turned to his comm and called, "Ratchet to Optimus Prime."

"_Go ahead._"

"I'd like to have the Wreckers taken off the active duty roster for at least half a megacycle."

Topspin gaped. "_WHAT_!?" He boggled even more as Optimus Prime considered this.

"_I'm not certain if that's possible._"

"You know I wouldn't ask this without a good reason." Ratchet said. "And if you really can't get someone else to cover one of their missions I could let them go early, but half is best at least."

Topspin opened his mouth to protest except that Ratchet was suddenly holding a welder very threateningly. "_Alright, I'll see what I can do. You want all of them sent down to you, I take it?_"

"Yessir, if you could." The line cut out and Ratchet had a very smug look on his face.

"I can't believe you just did that to us!" The field medic accused.

"I did and now I'm going to have to shuffle around _my_ schedule to deal with you processor-fried slaggers!" Ratchet approached Topspin with a deep scowl. "Every little shortcut you made, each little problem you passed over- _I'm_ going to be stuck fixing. And to make sure it gets done without any lip, your want to exacerbate things _and_ make sure you recharge this stellar cycle, you're all getting offlined. Starting with you!"

Topspin jolted. "Hey, now!" He raised his hands in appeasement. "But-but don't you need my help to-"

"No." And Ratchet tackled him.

* * *

JML: At that point I think he'd someone not afraid to understand and still kick him in the aft than an impartial 'it wasn't your fault'. Poor kid.

Cafei: I was never a big fan of Hot Rod, either. Until recently when I learned I can actually empathize with him depending on the writer. And if you want we could adopt you? Our family dinners would be the three of us sitting around, enabling each other XD

Hellsfirescythe: It's amazing the little tidbits one picks up from school, isn't it? I'm still constantly amazed at the art history stuff I've managed to retain so far! And yeah- the worst part about his Spotlight is that it really _wasn't_ his fault...

Teh: I figure since some people get a little weirded out at unexpected human sex and more people are weirded even more out by mechanical analogous sex, a warning would be a safe bet. So I'm glad they're helping you out!

Kyarorin: That one was sitting around in my head for a long time now, so I'm glad it turned out so well.

Silveriss: Thank you! I'm glad you took the time out to review, too! But yeah, the aftermath was probably a real strain on all three of them.

Kage: I would not doubt it.


	61. Request: Twins and Wreckers III

What's Wrong with a Little Destruction?  
The Wreckers

The continuing awesomeness of IDW's top strikeforce!

Note: Requested by Tiamat. Takes place after they return from the mission in Cunning Wreckers.

Also Note: This is now my most reviewed piece ever! Woohoo! (throws streamers). I feel I should do something special to commemorate. I got an art piece kicking around in my head, so I'll go ahead and dedicate it to all of you that's been sticking around and encouraging me to keep going. Thank you!

* * *

Request: Twins and Wreckers III

_"In this world of change, nothing which comes stays, and nothing which goes is lost."  
-Anne Sophie Swetchine_

He wasn't going to say anything because he already knew what was going to happen. But six of the Wreckers had stopped him on the trip back and asked. So he figured he should at least make an attempt (he really couldn't, when it came down to it, deny his 'bots anything and they knew it. After all, happy Wreckers meant destructive Wreckers and also more aware Wreckers which ultimately meant not having to find new Wreckers and learn how to keep _them_ happy). So when they hit the Orbital Hub and gave their report Springer also requested the addition of Sunstreaker and Sideswipe to their roster.

"Most absolutely not."

Springer had composed an entire speech on their melee capabilities, ranged skills and ability to follow through but the finality of Prowl's worse laid them flat. "Huh?"

"You're not the only ones that require strong bodies." The tactician said evenly. "Between you and the other specialty groups, all our best fighters are separate from frontline command. Those two are needed where they are."

That made Springer raise an optic ridge. "At an outpost?"

"Their command requested their transfer. They'll be part of the crew aboard the Hub shortly." The look Springer gave him made Prowl's doorwings twitch. "Yes, I'm well aware of their problematic behavior."

He raised his hands. "Hey- if you think you can handle them, by all means."

Prowl tilted his head in consideration. "Aren't they a bit inexperienced for your team?"

"Yeah, well- the guys really like 'em and they've got some tricks in their processors that are pretty impressive." Springer shrugged. "I think they could wait another few decades myself."

"The other Wreckers won't be happy when they find out they're not getting them, will they?"

"Nope." But he grinned broadly. "Just one more thing for them to blame you for."

"I'm thrilled." Prowl said dryly.

Sure enough the other Wreckers weren't happy at all. "No way." Twin Twist said, crossing his arms. "Their skills will just go to waste."

While it was hardly a rare thing to see his team as a unified front it was a bit surreal for Springer to have them barring _his_ way. From behind various shoulder components the twins looked just as uncertain with how to react to the wall of bodies. "They're being moved to the Hub." Springer offered. It didn't get a pacified reaction.

"Oh, yeah." Topspin said sarcastically (he had proclaimed very loudly that jet judo was now his new favorite past time). "Because taking orders from Prowl is absolutely the way to go."

Well, he had to give him that one. "They'd be on the frontline roster there."

"They'd be on the frontline with us, too." Broadside countered (he had proclaimed mile-high suplexing would be his new favorite past time if anyone tried to practice jet judo on him).

"That's the other main reason Prowl won't give us the twins." Blank optics was his only reply so Springer elaborated. "We already have a full roster so the only way we'll get to hang on to them is if two of you volunteer to step down."

Sunstreaker and Sideswipe suddenly found hands pushing them out the hatch. "Hey, thanks for the help! Hope to work with you again sometime! Keep bein' crazy, alright? Enjoy being on the Hub!"

"Hey!" Sideswipe cried indignantly, digging in his heels. "Geez, you guys are pretty quick on the switch!"

Sandstorm shrugged, shoving as he went. "Just because you're not wanted doesn't mean we don't like you."

Scoop nodded. "Yeah! You guys will always be okay in our book so long as Sunstreaker keeps freaking every time Broadside calls him Sunny."

The digger bolted, cackling wildly as Sunstreaker chased him, threatening explosive dismemberment. His brother and the rest of the Wreckers ran close behind, shouting out encouragements and suggestions. Springer turned to Roadbuster and told him, "I'm glad I'm not the only one that recognized they might not be ready to join us."

Roadbuster grunted noncommittally. He actually just didn't have the time to ask Springer to request their transfer and decided to keep that little tidbit to himself.

* * *

Teh: In something like being a field medic, I don't think you'll ever have enough training to be prepared for what you'll actually experience.

JML: I've never actually watched House. I really don't watch TV at all...

TJ: Thank you! Elita, huh? Hm... that'll be a toughie.

VAWitch: Just because he's good doesn't mean he's good enough for Ratchet, after all XD

Cafei: If by 'home' you mean the backyard behind my house that's essentially run by the store downstairs, then yes. By all means you have a home XD

Star Lin: Thank you! I really don't have much experience with Ratchet so he's really heavily influenced by other fic writers, I'm afraid to say. But no one's called me out on him being too OOC just yet, so...

Ayanna: I try- they're just too much fun! Ratchet probably put medbay on lock-down until he offlined them all XD

SisterDear: I used to be in the Marine Corps- not with any grunts but we all seem to have a fairly similar mindset somehow. And four year's exposure is hard to get rid of (still swears every other word).

Vierge: Thank you! I'm always impressed when someone starts reading through all these now given how many chapters I did. Even though some aren't incredibly long, but still.


	62. Request: Blaster and Wreckers

What's Wrong with a Little Destruction?  
The Wreckers

The continuing awesomeness of IDW's top strikeforce!

Note: Requested by Jason. Takes place pre-Infiltration. All song lyrics credited at the bottom.

Also Note: Guess what this is going to lead up to XD

Also Also Note: With midterms over, regular updates should occur. Most probably.

* * *

Request: Blaster and Wreckers

_"I fear the Greeks, even bearing gifts."  
-Virgil, The Aeneid_

Just another long day for the Wreckers, a job not as well done as they would've liked and they were all looking forward to some downtime to nurse their wounds. Coming up on their approach to the Orbital Hub, however, they received a communication.

"Hey, hey- it's the bad 'bots comin' home from the front!" Blaster's grinning face came up on the forward view. Despite their less than stellar attitudes, Blaster's friendly visage brought soft, echoing smiles to the crew on the bridge.

"Blaster, what's the word?" Springer asked, slouched further in his seat than the communications officer had ever seen him.

"Not all that much going on." The red mech admitted. "But ya did get a message from a detachment."

An optic ridge raised. "Trouble?"

"Naw. From Jazz."

That caused whatever salvaged good mood die. "Jazz." He repeated flatly.

"Don't tell me you're still upset at the mech. That was stellar cycles ago!"

"And he skipped out before we could get revenge." Springer wagged a finger at the screen. "Not cool."

"It was a mission, what could he do?"

"When it comes to Jazz, there's no such thing as coincidence. Especially when Prowl is involved."

Blaster shook his head. "Sure, Springer. They're both out to get you guys, whatever you say. Anyway, he wanted me to give this message to ya so you gonna hear it or what?"

The Wreckers were silent for a moment, exchanging looks. Finally Springer nodded. "What is it?"

"Some music samples from the place he's planet-sitting. I'll send over the language packet so you can understand it. Jazz was adamant that you'd love these." Xantium's computer monitor flashed with an upload of language. Jazz was nothing if not thorough with his research in cultures, asides from grammar and dictionary an entire database of slang and cross-reference of usage was compiled and it took nearly a klik for the Wreckers to download it all to their processors. Blaster's grin grew even wider in anticipation. "Ready?"

A grin like that was something to be wary about but they readied themselves for whatever it was Jazz had prepared for them. "Bring it on."

Blaster reached off screen and flicked at the controls and suddenly music started thrumming through the bridge. "_And everything I made is trite/and cheap/and a waste/of paint/of tape/of time._"

"…"

By the time they were able to properly process the words the next sample had come up. "_Paint/me right/can you feel the heat in me tonight?/Oh I'm the pearl/paint your love all over my world._"

This time a slow, burning anger was crawling obviously over faceplates. "_I wanna see it painted, painted black/Black as night, black as coal/I wanna see the sun blotted out from the sky/I wanna see it painted, painted, painted, painted black._"

The atmosphere in Xantium was _vibrating_ by now. "_Paint her name on a one-way street/Painted cheeks with angry heat/Wounded pride on painted eyes/Paint the night with battlecries._"

"Cut that slag off." Springer said sharply.

"_Cause I've been in lots of these/Bad, bad situations/Paint nothing now/Paint nothing-_"

The triplechanger looked up, glaring bloody death at Blaster. "You are looking far too smug to be a simple messenger, Blaster."

He held up his hands with a not-guilty-but-sure-as-hell-not-innocent smile. "So I had a little listen-to before I contacted you guys. You know me."

Icy optics narrowed at him in consideration. "You let Jazz know next time you talk to him that we haven't forgotten that… 'incident'. And there's no slagging way he's going to get away with it forever so he best enjoy himself while he can."

Blaster was twittering quietly, definitely enjoying being the bystander far too much. "Will do. Say, you want me to send over Jazz's transmi-"

"_No_." And with that the Wreckers cut off the transmission.

* * *

Bright Eyes – Waste of Paint  
Roxette – Paint  
Rolling Stones – Paint it Black  
Rush – War Paint  
Idlewild – Paint Nothing

Dragon: Heehee, I'll bet he's regretted the decision on more than one occasion XD

Teh: Actually I haven't really come to any solid idea on family units in Transformers. I have several concepts that could work, but I'm not really satisfied enough to go with any of them so I just... kinda ignore the subject until I have no choice :P Did you have a prompt in mind?

Jason:(snerks) Well if I watched it it certainly sounds like a premise that would require some delving, certainly! Alas the lack of TV attributes to a many missed show.

Vierge: I'm glad it's still being kept fresh despite the length! I'm certainly trying to keep from repeating myself overly much. And I must say you're comment had inspired a very wrong and very terrible drabble. And I'm afraid it's going to go up after this little mini-arc.


	63. Request: Jazz, Prowl versus Wreckers

What's Wrong with a Little Destruction?  
The Wreckers

The continuing awesomeness of IDW's top strikeforce!

Note: Requested by Tecuma. No actual Wreckers, but it's a good point to set up at.

* * *

Request: Jazz and Prowl versus Wreckers

_"How people treat you is their karma; how you react is yours."  
-Wayne Dyer_

Hot Rod's excited whoop was equally measured by the fairly unhappy line of Prowl's lips. "The Wreckers." He said flatly. "Here."

The red and yellow mech shrugged with a large grin. "Hey- Megatron calls in his big gun, we call in ours."

In a rare display of emotion, Prowl's lips turned down even further and his doorwings twitched. Which was virtually unnoticed by the crew of Ark-19 as they were all talking excitedly about the new arrivals. It was not, however, missed by Jazz but a question raised by one of the two humans kept him from pressing.

"Who are these Wreckers?"

Jazz looked to Prowl who turned away as if he hadn't heard the question. The saboteur wondered if he realized how childish he tended to act when it came to the Wreckers. Not that Jazz really minded- he found the entire antagonistic relationship between him and Springer hilarious. "They're one of our strike forces." Jazz told the humans. "Pretty much think of 'em as our equivalent of your Special Forces."

Jimmy lifted an eyebrow. "Which one? We've got several Special Forces."

"All of 'em." The mech said with a little shrug. "Green Berets, Rangers, SEALs, Force Recon- they do all of that and then some."

His audience crossed their arms with thoughtful looks on their faces. "So… like Ghost Recon types, right?" Verity asked.

There was a short pause and Jazz had to go through the network to dig up just what this 'Ghost Recon' was. "Yeah, you could put it like that. You wanna know more about them you should ask 'Jack or Bee- Hot Rod, too. He's good buddies with Springer. Not Ratchet, though. He'll probably blow a gasket going on about the kinda damage he's had to fix on them." There was a snort from off to the side and Jazz turned his attention to Prowl again. "Bet they're not happy with what's going on about Sunstreaker."

That mention made Verity and Jimmy frown themselves. "Oh?"

"Him and his brother worked with the Wreckers on some missions. They're pretty friendly with each other so I won't be surprised if they try going behind our backs searching for him." An unpleasant rumble came from Prowls engine, regaining Jazz's attention. "And you know they won't let us get away unscathed from last time, right?"

"I am aware of that."

Verity crossed her arms. "Get away with what?"

Jazz looked at her with a secretive smile. "Stealth training."

The two humans didn't comprehend. "Stealth training?"

"You just had to egg them on with that sampler of yours, didn't you?" Prowl asked with an actual hint of bitterness. Jazz spread his hands with a 'who knew' look.

"Aw, you know they don't let a grudge go anyway. Besides- it was fun!"

"And now they're going to be looking to get back at a slight _and_ an insult." His doorwings listed slightly. "And I'll get caught up in it because they think we're accomplices."

Jazz leaned over and nudged Prowl with an elbow. "C'mon- I know you laughed. Blaster captured that whole exchange."

The memory of it made Prowl's lips twitch upward and his doors hitch, but he quickly smothered it out. "Still. This is not trouble we need to deal with at the moment."

Rather used to being ignored by giant alien robots by now, Jimmy said a little loudly to regain their attention, "They're a bunch of troublemakers, then? Military thugs or something?"

"No, no." Jazz said quickly. "They're all great mechs- you'll be hard pressed to get a better group watching your back. It's just well, their leader and Prowl got some… 'contention' built between 'em."

"I can't imagine why." Verity muttered lowly.

Jimmy ignored the comment and asked, "What happened?"

"Well, they were academy buddies for one thing."

"No, actually, we were not." Came the droll reply from the other black and white. "That would imply that we had, at one point, a congenial relationship."

"So?" Jimmy pressed. "What happened?"

For the first time in the conversation Prowl looked over to the humans, his optics flat and mouth pressed in a thin line. "…" He said in displeasure. "We were in the academy together."

The two turned to Jazz, hoping for some kind of clarification. He shrugged back. "Separate ends of the spectrum, really. You'll get it when they get here." Jazz chuckled and leaned in conspiratorially. "No one gets under Prowl's chassis the way Springer can."

"Jazz," Prowl's tone had a rather cold edge to it, "go down and ensure Wheeljack is aware he's set to go on duty soon. You know how he gets when he's tinkering in his lab."

He let off a sharp salute and a low chuckle. "Yessir!"

As Jazz left, Verity leaned over to Jimmy and said, "Well, anyone that bugs Prowl can't be all bad."

* * *

Jason: But it _was_ nice! It was a gift given out of love! (love of teasing the slag outta them, but love nonetheless)

Teh: Of course, what else would an unrepentant Jazz do? XD

Dragon: Heehee! I don't mind since I'll find pretty much any excuse to get them to interact- Prowl and Springer especially, I've always got them snarking over _something_. If you ever think up a prompt or situation you'd like to see, though, let me know!

Tomorrow: Thank you!

Star: Absolutely! Especially since there's no chance of him getting caught up in the crossfire. Who can say no to free entertainment?

Hellsfirescythe: Thanks! I'm impressed about that, too! I don't think I've ever written so many chapters before o.O;


	64. Request: Jazz, Prowl versus Wreckers II

What's Wrong with a Little Destruction?  
The Wreckers

The continuing awesomeness of IDW's top strikeforce!

Note: Requested by Hunting Osprey.

* * *

Request: Jazz and Prowl versus Wreckers II

_"Sarcasm is irritating and unsettling and should be used frequently."  
-Phil Simborg_

It was quiet. Generally not necessarily a bad thing but as the Wreckers- all but two that is –were there it was not only an oddity but it was also a bad sign for two particular mechs aboard Ark-19. Jazz had already taken to disappearing as often as he could. Prowl had neither the leisure nor the capabilities to do the same and tended to find himself with two or more Wreckers around more often than not. Except that they rarely spoke to him, barely even acknowledge him and that made Prowl very… edgy.

He knew they were planning something to get back at both him and Jazz. He knew they wouldn't let any prank go unanswered. He knew they wouldn't leave until the score had been evened. He also knew planning Wreckers ultimately lead to very dangerous, very effective Wreckers. And to make it worse, Springer knew Prowl was waiting for the retaliation and was getting more paranoid with each passing day nothing happened. And Springer knew Prowl knew that he knew that and would always flash a smug grin his way every chance he got.

Fine. If that's the way it had to be, Prowl could deal with it. He knew the Wreckers were professional enough to not let pranks interfere with business. So let them bide their time. Prowl could handle whatever they decided to pull when it happens. He could take things in stride, he could adapt when he was given no other option, he could handle anything they threw at him with the dignity and bearing that always left Springer simmering at the lack of reaction.

Prowl entered the common area having been kicked out of his office by Optimus Prime. He feared this would happen, with Prime on Earth Prowl knew he'd take it upon himself to shoulder more responsibility than he really should (conversely, Optimus Prime thought Prowl put too much work upon himself and was trying to elevate the load). His battlecomputer had already scanned ahead, noting each presence, position and action in the room before he had even entered and was fully aware of all six planetside Wreckers taking up a table in the corner. He ignored them, planning on getting some work done on a couple datapads he'd managed to smuggle before being forcibly ejected from work by his leader.

No sooner had he sat down than Springer was on his feet and making a beeline for him. Prowl suppressed a grimace and irrationally hoped if he didn't notice him the triplechanger would go away. It didn't work.

"That was pretty slick of you." Springer drawled dryly, pulling out a chair and making himself comfortable. "Sending us on a half-aft mission and then running off on one yourselves while we were gone."

Prowl didn't look up from his datapad. "I apologize, I didn't realize you were looking forward to your punishment. You did take care of the paint, I trust?"

"Absolutely. Made myself black and white, actually. Felt if I had to be in regs I might as well emulate someone who never strays from them. Even put on a double-layer of wax and everything."

"How very studious of you. Flattery, however, would not have lessened your punishment."

Springer leaned in. " I was referring to Jazz's scheme. After all, he must not have done anything wrong- he wasn't punished, was he?"

There wasn't the slightest of hiccups in Prowl's actions. "There was no proof to link Jazz to the crime. You know I can't reprimand anyone without concrete proof."

"I got proof." Springer snarled. "I got lots of proof."

"Hm. Pity you didn't leave it with me before you left. I would've dealt with it."

"To use the human vernacular- bull shit."

"I fail to see what bovine excrement has to do with this." Prowl cross-referenced data on two different pads without missing a beat.

Springer's mouth pulled into a long, tight smile. "Or it could be that you couldn't punish him as his actions were at the request of a superior officer."

"Were that the case and there was proof of it I can assure you that officer would be held accountable."

"And who holds the officers on top accountable?"

Prowl stopped and he turned. "Springer," he said slowly, "am I correct in assuming you are alluding to me?"

"I have no idea where you came up with that conclusion, but now that it's been brought up- yes. Who _does_ determine your punishment?"

"Whatever imaginary slight you believe you have suffered at my doing, this conversation is ample punishment enough."

"Oh?" Springer leaned in even closer, delighted that Prowl moved back before he could stop himself. "What would that make my presence, then?"

"An annoyance. I do have work that needs to be done, if you don't mind."

"I don't mind at all, go right ahead."

Prowl didn't move a cable, just sat and glared flatly. "Springer." He said, voice low. "Go away."

A grin was his only answer, but the triplechanger did move back. "Don't worry about a thing, Prowl." He rumbled in delight and dark pleasure. "We won't be going anywhere."

He got up from the table and moved across the room. Prowl looked over to the corner to the other five Wreckers and they all gave him very large, very feral grins. Prowl held back an involuntary shudder and irrationally hoped they wouldn't be needed for much longer.

* * *

Star Lin: Oh yes. Fun times ahead for all, I'm sure XD

CasusFere: He is! It's always so much fun to ruffle the unruffleable!

Bai Lang: Thank you! I'm glad to introduce them to you! And the Wreckers would never say no to explosion, I'm sure XD

Okami: You're not the only one and I hope I don't disappoint :P

Cafei: I actually wouldn't mind doing more with them. They're actually surprisingly fun to write!

Jason: Love of the highest degree, my friend. And I'd say right off the bat Twin Twist would hate it the most because his alt mode would be such a terrible, ungainly thing.

Desondas: Wow, that is weird for your computer to not do that. And as a great lover of the military I must say these stories reminding you of actual stories told by real Marines is a great compliment to me!

Azure Ocelot: You're not the only one surprised by how long this has gotten! Actually I've got something in the works already, once that goes put up you can decide if I did a decent enough job on them to encourage more? Admittedly I'm a bit hesitant bringing in other characters once in a while because I'm not entirely certain on their characterizations. Aerialbots, a group I really like, being among them.

Teh: Even Prowl has to have something that annoys the ever-loving slag out of him!

Vierge: That's a rather funny comment you should say, forgetting that the humans are there. Heeheehee.

Lady Mirror: Heehee, just have a little patience XD


	65. Request: Jazz, Prowl versus Wreckers III

What's Wrong with a Little Destruction?  
The Wreckers

The continuing awesomeness of IDW's top strikeforce!

Note: Requested by VAWitch

* * *

Request: Jazz and Prowl versus Wreckers III

_"It is sort of weird. In some ways, it feels like we've come full circle."  
-Andrew Booth_

Ark-19 was small. That did not bode well when one didn't want to be found- especially by a group of others. Prowl, as his position dictated he be readily available for whatever reason, had come to accept he wouldn't be able to get out of the Wreckers' collective crosshairs. Jazz, whose myriad of hidey-holes had been mostly compromised in fairly short order generally by the ingenious use of unwitting humans, was still doing his best to be not where he could be easily found. It wasn't going as well as it usually should and Jazz had to be impressed with the mettle displayed in keep the saboteur accounted for.

There was almost always a Wrecker around anywhere the two of them went. They managed to weasel their way into being the ones sent to fetch either Prowl or Jazz under Prime's orders or for simple tasks. Some of them- just because they could –would often times stand right behind one of the black and white mechs, well within any sort of personal boundaries. But mostly the Wreckers did absolutely nothing. They stood and they stared and they made no word or movement towards either 'bots unless they had to.

It was very, very nerve-wracking.

"They'll have to make their move soon." Prowl said, mainly for his own benefit but Jazz still nodded at his side. "They won't be certain how long they'll be here and it won't be long until they'll be off after Sixshot. Once they focus completely on him, they won't have time to deal with us."

Verity and Jimmy- who finally realized they were being used to rat out Jazz –were sitting on the visored mech's shoulders. "Maybe they're just trying to psyche you out." Jimmy said. "Wait until you work yourself into a frenzy and beg for them to just get it over with and say 'What are you talking about? We weren't going to do anything.' Happens all the time."

Verity rolled her eyes. "On TV, maybe. That doesn't actually work in real life."

"Have you tried it?"

"Please."

"Even if it did," Jazz told them, "it wouldn't pacify the Wreckers. They're all about the spectacle and the challenge. Something like psychological warfare wouldn't satisfy them."

"Especially considering what it is they're getting revenge for." The two stopped at the doorway of a cargo bay and Prowl turned to pluck both humans from his compatriot's shoulders. It annoyed him whenever Jazz let them do that- it wasn't safe and it wasn't practical. With the sort of detached care only Prowl was capable of he set them down. They already knew the drill- any place with lots of equipment was off limits to them and Prowl didn't feel the need to remind them of the rule.

The doors whisked open and they moved inside to-

_GOOOOSH!_

The two mechs stood stock-still, trying to comprehend just when the world suddenly became yellow. Very yellow. Sunstreaker yellow, to be exact. They looked down at themselves, doused in that same bright color, the metallic flakes suspended within glinting brightly in the overhead light. The walls fairly vibrated with laughter.

"HAHAHAHA! We got you fraggers! We finally _finally_ got you!" The Wreckers were on one of the catwalks, chortling and high-fiving each other as Prowl and Jazz looked up, completely stunned from a puddle of what was once formally known as Sunstreaker's extra body paint.

"How," Jazz actually stuttered, "are you not coming up on our proximity scans?"

They grinned broadly. "Swiped the plans for Mirage's scrambler and tinkered around with it. But we FINALLY got you! After all this time you've finally been-"

"What the slag is going on here!?"

Just outside the doorway and splashed paint, Ratchet looked at the mess in a rather horrified fashion. And then someone else said, "Ugh, this stuff is _disgusting_!"

All optics went downward to where Verity and Jimmy had caught the tail end of the paintbomb, their entire fronts splattered yellow. There was a sharp click of Ratchet's mandible clenching tight in preparations of a very frightening, very explosive blowout. He looked up at Jazz and Prowl with barely contained rage. They moved back to allow him clear view of the suddenly deathly silent Wreckers.

"You…" Ratchet couldn't even speak, just brought his hands up like he could strangle them through pantomime. The two humans exchanged bewildered and frightened looks at the normally not homicidal Ratchet's sudden change in disposition.

"Wheeljack," Prowl said to his comm in that infuriatingly calm way he had even in the worst of situations, "if you would check the manufacturer's label of Sunstreaker's preferred body paint to see if there are warnings of permanent discoloration to humans." Jazz had to bite back a snicker as color drained out of the Wreckers' optics. "As well as toxicity warnings."

They could practically _hear_ something inside Ratchet snap. "Oh slag- run! _RUN_!"

"GET BACK HERE YOU GLITCH BRAINED SORRY EXCUSES FOR SMELTING SLAG SUCKERS! I'LL TEAR OUT YOUR MANIFOLDS AND BEAT YOU WITH THEM UNTIL THERE'S NOT ONE SYNAPSE FIRING IN YOUR MICRO-CHIP SIZED PROCESSORS!"

Verity yelped as Ratchet charged after the rapidly retreating strike force, slipping in the paint and knocking both her and Jimmy off their feet.

"Hey, hey." Jazz said with a big yellow grin, picking them carefully up by soggy shirts. "Don't go knocking yourselves over too much! We don't want you damaged on top of colored."

"Indeed." Prowl opened another comm channel. "Hardhead, alert Xantium's crew that we'll be doing maintenance on our orbital relays. They may receive waves from us, but they're for testing purposes only and they needn't answer unless they are followed by a proper emergency code. Also remind them that orbital bounces will be impossible for the next… six cycles until maintenance is complete."

There was a pause on the other line of Hardhead processing the order, not understanding the sudden maintenance but deciding- hey, an order's an order. "_Sure thing, Prowl._"

Jazz looked at the tactician with an incredibly large grin (and coming from Jazz, that's pretty damn huge). "You are one evil, vindictive mech, ya know that?"

Prowl returned the look as neutral as ever. "I have no idea what you're talking about."

* * *

Mirror: Nope. I'm actually very bad with keeping up with a deadline for longer stories. And I really don't normally work so fast. I guess it's just the prompts that make it easy on me.

JML: Absolutely. I tried to look everywhere for some sort of drill and most all I could find couldn't even move under their own power. Poor 'bot.

Osprey: Everyone gets what's coming to them, really XD

Khareesa: Every time I try to picture the Wreckers and Dinobots interacting, it's always after the Dinobots get their Earth alt modes and the Wreckers are always laughing themselves sick over it...

Alana: You have a particular idea you want to see?

VAWitch: When dealing with this lot, I think you're i required /i to have some sort of sense of humor really. Or you'll just go insane.

Azure Ocelot: I'm not bothered by your comments. You have your perspective from what you've been exposed to, my exposure was different. But Marines are like any other group of people, there are some that are very noble, some that really fit the asshole bill. But even assholes may have the capability of doing something noble. I'm all about keeping an open mind.

Seekeress: I'm glad to make your mornings easier!

Tomorrow: Yeah, that is what I mean. And it's got to be difficult to be in a situation Prowl i can't /i turn to his advantage XD


	66. Request: Prowl versus Springer II

What's Wrong with a Little Destruction?  
The Wreckers

The continuing awesomeness of IDW's top strikeforce!

Note: Requested by Vierge. Well… not exactly, but she commented that someone needed to do something to loosen Prowl up and alluded to something (allegorically) sexual. And this is the first thing that popped into my mind.

* * *

Request: Prowl versus Springer II

_"Sex: the expense is damnable, the position is ridiculous, and the pleasure fleeting."  
-Samuel Johnson_

They were arguing again. Seemed to be the most commonplace thing on the Ark- right up there with it being occupied. It had gotten to the point that when one of them was in the room and the other entered everyone that could cleared out. Even the other Wreckers were starting to get annoyed with the constant snipping and had offered to Optimus Prime that they could wait on Xantium until they were needed again.

It was tempting. It really was. His patience in breaking up Prowl and Springer's bickering was just short of breaking. Unfortunately the risk of the Decepticons or the increasing potential of the human sub-faction picking up an emergency transmission and orbital jump stalled Optimus Prime's decision on sending them back to their own ship.

No one could keep track of what it was they argued about each time and even Jazz had stopped finding it amusing. He actually threw his arms in the air, went 'ARGH!' and stomped out of the room in the middle of one of their fights. Ratchet had threatened if they started it up near the medbay, he'd snap their vocalizers into pieces.

The eventual solution to the mess could probably be traced back to Verity though it certainly wasn't her exact intention. She just made a sarcastic comment (when neither was actually there to hear it) on how all their fighting would eventually end up with them either killing each other or having giant gay robot sex.

Not only did that fry Jimmy's mind, it also seemed to short out the processors of everyone in hearing range. Verity held up her hands at the towering metal suddenly-statues. "Oookay, never mind."

Her comment of copulation as a tension reliever did, however, eventually got around to the two in question and somehow entered in the topic of whatever it was they were fighting over this time. "Please." Prowl drawled, stopping himself from rolling his optics. "To start, that isn't even an issue. Secondly, if it were an issue I fail to see what any kind of recreational activity I partake in is of any concern of yours."

"Seriously, Commodore Tight Aft. When was the last time you got overloaded?" Springer growled, hands on his hip components and leaning in dangerously close. "What you need is someone strapping you down and sparking you off until you get those damned subroutines of yours loosened up."

Prowls optics went surprisingly large and he stayed frozen for so long Springer thought the concept broke his battlecomputer. Finally he asked in an oddly strangled tone, "You're not offering, are you?"

Tick.

Tick.

Ding!

Hands went up to his head. "Owowow_no_!" The triplechanger hissed, processor nearly fritzing on him. "Oh Primus, no!"

A rush of air escaped Prowl's vents, doors dropping completely out of relief and he actually had to put a hand to the bulkhead to keep himself steady. "Thank the primal source…"

Springer, still clutching at his helmet, said painfully, "We did not just have this conversation."

"Agreed."

"We're just going to turn around, walk away and wipe this entire confrontation from our memory banks."

"The concept is too unbelievably impossible to be even considered."

"Right."

"Right."

They eyed each other warily, almost distrustingly, before doing very stiff about-faces and making fast tracks away from each other.

But at least they stopped fighting.

* * *

Well! 15 reviews on that last chapter alone! I'm so glad you all enjoyed it because once that idea hit me there was no way I could've let it go! But that's a damn lot of reviews to respond to so I'm just going to pick the more pressing ones to hit. But for everyone I don't, thank you for taking the time to drop me a line, I really appreciate it and I'm glad you're enjoying the read!

Seekeress: It may take a while for it to come up, but I definitely do have one in the works! (thumbs up)

Azure Ocelot: I've met some real, Prowl-esque hardasses before but some of them outside the uniform could be some real great people. I think what may be the hardest part for most people is being able to think as someone in command. I didn't get very high in the rank structure before my contract was up, but I could see some of the pressing issues that got the higher ups going both ways. And I tell you- being in charge is hard business. And I staunchly stand by the idea that he really _does_ have a sense of humor.

Cafei: Yes. Ratchet could write poetry using other mechs' fuel lines XD

VAWitch: Hopefully they don't see the results of what happens when he finally catches them! He might traumatize the poor kids!

Hunting Osprey: Man, if this weren't set while Sunstreaker was still missing I would totally do that!

Jennifer: Hehehe, well Prowl is the top tactician, after all. Far be it for him not to take any advantage of a situation!

Ronin: So long as you remember to breath it's all good XD

Okami: Thanks!. I'm actually surprised how much fun Prowl is to write!


	67. Request: Combaticons and Wreckers II

What's Wrong with a Little Destruction?  
The Wreckers

The continuing awesomeness of IDW's top strikeforce!

Note: Requested by FloofWolfe. The song mentioned is pretty much Edwin Starr's 'War'. Brief reference to Spotlight: Ultra Magnus.

Also Note: Since I have a lot of requests that are fairly old, I'm going to try to get through them as they come in. Unless there's really, really, _really_ a prompt I absolutely feel compelled to finish. Or multiple people want to see. So if it takes a long time for me to get to your request, please bear with me:P

* * *

Request: Combaticons and Wreckers II

_"If you have a bunch of clowns, you're going to have a circus."  
-Boettcher's Attribution_

Sandstorm looked dubious but he didn't leave and that seemed to cue Whirl and Scoop to stick around too. "You're not doing this," he said carefully, "because he shot you down in that last skirmish, are you?"

Blast Off and Vortex gave him a flat look. "If we were looking to take revenge on everyone that ever shot us, there'd be a long list." The shuttle drawled.

"Yeah. This is to get back for when he rigged a comm link to us to play music at random intervals." Vortex crossed his arms, tail rotor slowly spinning in irritation. "You have no idea how slagged off Megatron can get when he's trying to explain a battle plan and suddenly someone's singing about how war isn't good for anything."

The Wreckers snickered and Whirl's optic flared in amusement. "Good timing."

"Hardly." The usual get-together between the Wreckers and Combaticons didn't go as it typically did with all the gambling and chatting as Swindle was (again) on the run. Instead they just pretty much milled about and Blast Off and Vortex decided to approach the most readily available pranksters they knew to help them take their revenge. Given the impressive amount of materials at their disposal (and some of the most processor-boggling things Sandstorm and Whirl collected specifically to use in future pranks) the two Combaticons got things in working order fairly quickly. All they needed now was their victim: Roadbuster.

Scoop- having gone to reconnoiter for Roadbuster –came running back with a grin. "He's coming this way!" The Wreckers stepped back, anticipating how this would all go off.

The five waited, hand on the trigger. And waited.

And kept waiting.

"I thought you said he was coming!" Blast Off hissed at the digger.

Scoop rolled his optics. "I'm sorry, Xantium has something commonly referred to as 'halls'. You may not have been aware of them, but they occasionally lead from one place to another."

"Shh! Shh!" Vortex waved at them, excited. "He's coming!"

Sure enough there was a blip on their proximity scanners and all five huddled close to the wall, straining to hear the familiar footfalls of their victim.

…

A little _too_ familiar.

The Decepticons' optics went wide. "Slag- that's Onslaught!" They dropped the trigger and bolted around the corner. "No- stop!"

"Hey, Onslaught! You got a klik to check this-"

By the time they realized Springer had successfully stopped their leader Blast Off and Vortex were already half down the hall. The shuttle tried to stop, the helo didn't. Which was probably what save him on the humiliation (though not the pain since he ran headfirst into Onslaught's midsection) because traction had Blast Off skidding right into the center of the trap.

Globs of hot jellied things that Sandstorm picked up from Primus knew where splattered down from the vents and he yelped under the bombardment. It stopped in fairly short order (the globs, when broken, smelled terrible so Sandstorm could only smuggle so much onboard before things started getting suspicious), leaving Blast Off steaming and stinking in the corridor.

"What," the Combaticon leader eventually said, vocalizer gruff in the otherwise silent hall, "was that?"

Vortex looked up with a sizeable dent in his helmet. "Umm… surprise?"

"Were you planning on dousing me with… _that_?" When he was peeved, Onslaught didn't yell. He growled like the sharpening of a saw.

"No!" They said quickly. "This was for Roadbuster!"

That answer was obviously not the right one because he grabbed Vortex by the neck ring and shook him. "You fragging morons! You're cleaning this up- until every microbe of… whatever this is _and_ the stench is gone!"

"Sandstorm," Springer snapped, unamused, "you, too. I told you not to bring that slag onboard!"

The orange triplechanger slunk around the corner. "Primus fraggit…"

At that point Roadbuster finally came down the hall. "Primus on a roto-whirl- what is that _smell_?" He looked at Blast Off, then at the wilting Vortex and Sandstorm and simmering Onslaught and Springer. "What happened?"

Scoop ducked back around the corner, stifling a giggle in his hands. "I can't believe you triggered that on Blast Off! He'll be torqued for _cycles_!"

Whirl shrugged, trigger still in hand. "He was there."

* * *

Blazer: I don't really know them, I'll have to look through my Marvel comics before I could write anything...

Khareesa: Oops? Should I start putting up a spit-take warning?

VAWitch: I think, considering how it ended, everyone decided to just forget the entire thing (including the grudge) happened. Though I assure you that Jazz will not let the event be forgotten which will probably require the Wreckers to attempt to save face... But, yes- the idea of Prowl getting his freak on with someone is difficult enough for most to process, but with someone he'd rather not deal with at all? Computing that would freeze just about _anyone_, I'm sure!

Osprey: Oh that would be such a terrible, terrible thing to do! So obviously it must be done!

JML: I apologize! Sort of. At least you weren't subjected to hate-sex:D

Dragon: As they knew each other and probably argued since they met in the academy and all the centuries afterwards, it's probably really hard for them to get over that particular dynamic. And the fact that someone said that to you and your sisters makes me cackle XD

Kyarorin: I actually tried to get them to go at it, just to see if I could. They absolutely refused to cooperate, no matter what means I tried.

Tiamat: They're also my favorite non-pairing pair, too XD

Alana: Oooooh! I love doing cultural pieces!


	68. Disorganized Wreckers

What's Wrong with a Little Destruction?  
The Wreckers

The continuing awesomeness of IDW's top strikeforce!

Note: Pre-current Wreckers roster. I've wanted to do something with Sixshot ever since I read Devastation 1 and since he's the Decepticons' call during Phase Six and the Wreckers are the Autobots' call for the same there's no way they _couldn't_ have met at some point. Character death ahead, btw.

Also Note: ajremix(dot)deviantart(dot)com/art/Wreckers-Happy-Halloween-68698874! Hurray!

* * *

17. Disorganized Wreckers

_"Hate begets hate, violence begets violence, toughness begets a greater toughness."  
-Martin Luther King Jr._

Springer hunkered down behind cover, trying to reorient himself with one working optic. "Wreckers!" He shouted, dirt and strain turning his vocalizer hoarse. "Sitrep!"

"Heavy barrage coming in from the rear!" Broadside called over the comm. "'Cons got us enclosed!"

"Twin Twist- I'm with Spin and he's not looking too hot! He's gotta be evaced!"

Roadbuster cut in. "Legs are shot but I got cover. Saw Whirl go down- think one of his engines caught fire-"

"He's down and out!" Redline cut in. "A blast ruptured a fuel tank- he's offline but alive!"

Hammerhead roared overhead, twisting and firing as he went, voice angry. "The mission's shot all to hell! Scrap-worth command pulled out their troops! They fragging _left_ us here!"

"Hold your ground, Wreckers!" He opened up another comm link. "This is Springer requesting-"

He realized the shooting had stopped just as Hammerhead cried, "Springer- he's on you!"

Instinct had him transforming, wheels squealing as he reversed and peeled out just as Sixshot's wolf-form pounced, claws barely missing his side. Pain from the near-instantaneous transforming blinded him and Springer careened right into a rock face. Despite his own wounds, half limping on a partially broken leg, Sixshot was on him again. Springer's rotary assembly popped out from his roof and whirled, slashing deep into Sixshot's side, sending him crashing several meters away. Both of Springer's blades shattered, sensory damage threatening to lock him in stasis.

"Broadside!" Roadbuster called out. "Get Springer outta there! Red, Hammer, Twist- interference!"

"N-No." Springer winced, struggling to transform. His hand shook uncontrollably on his rifle, sparks arcing over joints and even clenching it with both hands didn't keep it steady. "I'm fine!"

"Slaggit- don't argue with me! Broadside, offline him if you gotta but Springer, Spin and Whirl are making that jump!"

"Understood, Roadbuster!" The large triplechanger responded. He came in on a strafing run, tagging Sixshot before he had the chance to shift into vehicle mode and tear out of the line of fire. The Decepticon swerved hard, Twin Twist's drills scraping over his side as he passed. Broadside's heavy landing nearly shook Springer off his feet. "Time to go, chief."

"I'm fine!" He tried to push Broadside's hand away and practically fell into him instead. "Take care of the other two! I can still fight!"

"No way. You're getting out of here before-"

"Red, you _idiot_!"

The two triplechangers whipped around. Sixshot had caught the agile Wrecker by the neck, using him as a shield to block any of Twin Twist's shots as he fired upon the driller. Hammerhead circled overhead, trying to get a clear shot at the sixchanger. Despite the deep gash nearly rending him in two, Redline still struggled against the much larger mech.

Twin Twist- frustrated and patience snapping –transformed and charged, drills whirling a furiously high note. Hammerhead banked into a dive, pelting Sixshot with fire as his attention shifted. The Decepticon fell to one knee as one shoulder mount exploded, burying shrapnel in his helmet. The other he leveled at Twin Twist and fired, the blast knocking the Wrecker onto his side, fuel splattering out of the wound.

The Decepticon twisted and threw Redline at Hammerhead, the jet barely able to transform in time to catch his teammate. And unable to maneuver as Sixshot transformed into gun mode and blasted them both pointblank.

Springer wasn't aware of anything after that. He didn't hear himself screaming, didn't remember trying to charge at Sixshot or Broadside having to tackle him to the ground. He didn't know what kind of obscenities or threats he roared, he couldn't even say he heard Roadbuster ordering, "_Xantium- jump us now!_" or precisely when they left the battlefield.

All he can ever remember of that day is the image of his two teammates being obliterated in that deceptively beautiful beam of energy.

* * *

The halls of the outpost were quiet. Those that managed to retreat from the now Decepticon ruled planet had docked at the nearest Autobot outpost for repairs. It was the first time the Wreckers reunited with the detachment after their disastrous encounter with Sixshot. Optimus Prime received the dire news and had a shuttle take him out to meet with them both.

He didn't expect to hear Roadbuster savagely tearing into the detachment commander and- Optimus Prime had to wince at the words that he heard –he was right on every point he made. At least he understood why no one ventured out into the halls. Three of the Wreckers were in critical condition, two dead and the rest trying to find an outlet for their rage and grief. Roadbuster's roaring could be heard halfway across the outpost, Broadside had taken his out on a practice range. That just left Springer and Prime was worried about what the triplechanger would do after clearing himself from medical and stomping off on his own.

He eventually located Springer in a spare cargo bay and the damage within was… impressive to say the least. Everything was tossed about, broken, scorched, ripped apart and there along the far wall was the Wreckers' leader, sitting on the floor, knees to his chest and arms folded over his helmet. Quietly Optimus Prime walked over to him, trying to imagine just what he could say to make things alright.

"I'll kill him." Springer's soft admission stopped Prime in his tracks. "I swear to Primus I'll kill him if it's the last thing I do."

And that made Optimus Prime's spark ache. He hated to see any of his troops hurting like this, hated that he had to make them go through this. This was far from the first time the Wreckers ever had to face off with Sixshot, wasn't the first time they'd lost lives to him. But never had they ever been hurt so badly, never had they ever lost two great comrades like they had now. Words failing him, he moved to sit next to Springer and put an arm around the grieving officer, trying to take away some part of his pain and hate.

* * *

Jason: While I don't think I could ever truly get tired of hot anyone on anyone action, you just need to have some variety! I mean, I could make every single one of these drabbles funny (or try) but that would get boring and redundant for me, for the readers and it wouldn't do much for the characters themselves. I like what I like, but I also like change.

Kyarorin: Thank you!

Staringsideways: Thanks! I like fleshing out canon, so I'm glad you're enjoying it in tandem to the comics!

Universal: I'll do what I can!

Veglma: Thanks for all your reviews!

Tomorrow: Glad you liked!


	69. Request: Card Playing Wreckers

What's Wrong with a Little Destruction?  
The Wreckers

The continuing awesomeness of IDW's top strikeforce!

Note: Requested by Jason. So it's not really poker and the only card games I really know are solitaire and freecell but… ah, I'm sure the idea comes across. The game they're playing is Sheepshead. Which I've never even seen played before.

* * *

Request: Card Playing Wreckers

_"The dynamo of our economic system is self-interest which may range from mere petty greed to admirable types of self-expression."  
-Felix Frankfurter_

"Alright, mechs!" Smokescreen said as he finished dealing the cards. "Still playing by cutthroat rules. Let's get the round rolling!"

Swindle, being on Smokescreen's left, reached for the blind, studying his hand before discard two of them. His optics flickered briefly and he announced, "I'll go off ace of clubs."

The three present Autobots exchanged subtle glances and carefully hid their smirks. They had picked up on the telltale hint of transmissions and they knew exactly that Swindle had picked Octane as his partner this round.

Jazz held up the two red face cards. "Callin' red blitz crack."

There was another faint trace of transmission exchange and Octane spoke up, his smile slight but there. "Double black blitz crack."

Optic ridges went up all over. "Someone thinks they got a good hand." Sandstorm commented. A sly look was his only answer though Swindle chuckled quietly to himself.

"Let's get these tricks going." Smokescreen said with a wide, anticipatory grin. "Been a while since we've had stakes _this_ high."

Though, really, it's been a while since the five of them had gotten together period. But, after nearly a meta-cycle since their last game, they finally coordinated their schedules to meet up on a neutral outpost to play. Which, all things considered, was a good thing they couldn't do too often. It gave them time to save up on credits and recuperate from the previous game. These stakes were high and cutthroat was putting their game nicely. With all the charm and double-dealing and slight-of-hands and calculated bids going on at the table if someone didn't pay attention they could find themselves losing the army's entire budget.

But all five were professional cheaters and knew sometimes chance meant slight setbacks. Which was why Swindle didn't worry when he and Octane lost the first trick. Or minded _too_ much about losing the second. And then his supposed 'partner' played his ace out of trump. And then _Sandstorm_ put down a faced black and Smokescreen the _second_ and he knew, somehow, he'd just been rolled without the slightest knowledge of it until it was over.

"What are you _doing_!?" Swindle practically shrieked at the end of the hand. The Autobots sniggered to themselves while Octane just lounged pleasantly in his seat. "They completely _swept_ us! You _helped_ them sweep us!"

"So a no trick, plus a crack, plus a blitz, plus a recrack, plus another blitz," Jazz said deliberately, as if he actually had to calculate, "which is nine… eighteen… thirty-six… seventy-two…" with a great flourish only capable by the truly smug the saboteur jotted down the scores. "Swindle's down 144, which gives me, Screen and Storm 48 each and a flat zilch for Octane!"

Sandstorm hid a smirk behind his container of energon. "I told you someone had a good hand."

"Good for _us_, anyway." Jazz agreed.

Swindle was not amused. "How could you _do_ that to me?"

"You told Megatron that I was overcharging him on shipments." There was a smirk on Octane's lips despite his open glare. "He's been cutting his payments in half and I'm gonna be in the red if this keeps up."

Swindle's mouth flapped uselessly like some mouth-breathing creature. Finally he hung his head in defeat. "Okay, okay! I'll find some way to get Megatron to go back to your regular price!"

Octane shrugged. Pointedly. "I'll see if I can't get a mutually beneficial hand next time, then."

* * *

Okami: Yeah, you never really see any actual distraught whenever the comics kill anyone off. Of course Marvel is also notorious for killing off characters and then bringing them back to life, which kinda defeats the purpose.

Jason: You have no idea what that drabble inspired in me. And I'll bet everyone will hate me for it.

Veglma: The saddest part is... he's just doing his job. I'll bet the other side has had very much the same reaction after the Wreckers have swept through.

Tomorrow: He's a compassionate leader, what can you say?

Star Lin: Thanks. It can't be easy for the Wreckers to lose one of their own since they're such a tight-knit group. Prime was actually a last minute addition, but I think it being him instead of someone else is fitting.

Jennifer: I like doing the sad bits as well as the funny, adventurous ones just because they really round out the characters. And I'll take a Prime hug no problem!


	70. Request: Unconventional Wreckers

What's Wrong with a Little Destruction?  
The Wreckers

The continuing awesomeness of IDW's top strikeforce!

Note: Requested by Khareesa.

* * *

Request: Unconventional Wreckers

_"Of course I'm crazy, but that doesn't mean I'm wrong."  
-Robert Anton Wilson_

They sat around, huddled together and speaking in hushed tones. "All right, what do we have?" All their remaining fire power and ammunition was placed inside the huddle along with any other potentially useful equipment. It wasn't much and it showed in their silence.

Finally Twin Twist said, "We're slagged, aren't we?" Separated from the rest of their team with a horde of Decepticons between them did wonders to kill his mood.

"Hey now!" Topspin protested. "So long as we're alive we're only half slagged!"

"Well what can we do?" Scoop asked, mainly to keep the two jumpstarters focused. "We can't make our way through the line with just _this_."

"C'mon, we're Autobots. And Wreckers on top of that!"

"Pfft." Twin Twist dropped his chin in one hand. "All that means is if we can't get out alive, we go down crazy."

The three of them sat deep in thought for a moment. And then Topspin looked up with a manic grin on his lips. "Crazy? We can do crazy."

* * *

"That was absolutely crazy and I can't believe that worked."

"Can't knock it if it worked!" Topspin chirped smugly. His engine was turned off and he rested heavily on the ground.

The other five looked on, still not entirely certain how to react to this. It was- even for them –unconventional. Topspin seemed to be the only one that didn't much mind the situation.

"Can you not just stand there and help us out?" Twin Twist asked with an audible sulk.

Scoop, the only one of the three not in vehicle mode, scowled. "Yeah, I feel naked. And violated."

This monstrosity of a spearhead was in fact a combination of the three Wreckers. Scoop's shovel had been taken off and used as a shield with Twin Twist's drills poking through. Scoop himself was set up on top of the driller with a rifle in each hand while Topspin provided rear cover and propulsion. They fabricated a skirt out of waterproofing seals and attached it to Topspin's fan, creating an air cushion that let them careen wildly through the Decepticon line.

Whirl crossed his arms and asked with much amusement, "You got yourselves into this, can't you get out?"

"Nope. I think Twist and me are stuck together." The hovercraft said almost happily. Just went to prove their medic was masochistic, really.

"Well, that is a pity now." Springer replied. He and the others made no move toward them, still soaking in the sight.

Scoop glowered and slammed the butt of a rifle down. "Hey! I want my shovel back- _fixed _-and reattached!"

"Ow!" Twin Twist tried to shake Scoop off but only succeeded in dragging Topspin to one side slightly. "Watch what you're doing! It's not my fault!"

"You pierced my shovel! I fail to see how you're oh so slagging innocent!" He slammed the rifle down again.

Twin Twist and Scoop argued and snarled at each other, then at Topspin when he started laughing at them. Roadbuster nudged Broadside's thigh and told him, "Remind me to never listen to any of Spin's ideas. Ever."

* * *

Jason: I don't know, this one is pretty terrible. I'd hate me for it if I didn't love the idea so much. Which just goes to prove that I am a terrible, sadistic person. Unfortunately it is also proving to be very long...

Dragon: I suppose they're all in the mindset of 'it doesn't matter what side you're on so long as you have money we can cheat you out of' XD

Teh: I think Prime would probably make the trip out if he heard that his crack strike force was about to rip someone's head off. Especially after their team got decimated like that. And I'm pretty sure the quote means something like 'our economy works because people are either greedy, or they (as was in the case of the last chapter) have an ulterior motive'.

Kyarorin: Thanks. I try to stagger the more depressing chapters with the more... whimsy? I guess?

Jennifer: Yeah- especially you're only 'friends' are those no one else likes, either. Even if Sixshot gives off the air of not needing anyone.

Tomorrow: Oh yeah. They could put entire systems bankrupt in their games!

Tecuma: You're sick? D: I was wondering where you'd gotten to! I'm glad you're liking the chapters, though. (tosses blanket over you) Feel better!


	71. Request: Humans and Wreckers

What's Wrong with a Little Destruction?  
The Wreckers

The continuing awesomeness of IDW's top strikeforce!

Note: Requested by Cafei, Alana and Universal Constant. Takes place not long after the Wreckers arrive on Earth, probably before Jazz, Prowl versus Wreckers II.

* * *

Request: Humans and Wreckers

_"Hope is important because it can make the present moment less difficult to bear. If we believe that tomorrow will be better, we can bear a hardship today."  
-Thich Nhat Hanh_

The smaller cargo hold had been converted to the Wrecker's squadbay, where they'd gather and do… whatever stuff military types did. Probably just hung out and disassembled their guns. Blindfolded.

Verity gave Jimmy an exasperated look. "You watch _way_ too many movies." She wasn't even going to ask how they'd do that when they had guns that were attached to their bodies. They stood outside the cargo hold, looking at the oversized doors. Jazz had told them where the Wreckers would be as they settled in and had warned them that it might not be safe for the two humans to go and be under their feet as they were far larger than most other Autobots.

Of course he also said it in a way that stated 'you are also very small and hard to keep track of so it'll be a pity if you manage to sneak your way over to talk to them about certain missing persons'.

So they made it down to the hold and stood there. And realized they had no way to open the automated doors.

"Crap."

"Now what?"

Surprisingly the doors actually opened and the two scrambled out of the way of any descending feet. Except no feet came and they craned their necks back, looking up and up at a very tall, white, one-eyed (er… optic) Wrecker. The Wrecker looked down at them impassively. Then he turned around. "Alright, so RB's right. Again. They really are too small to be noticed by Ark's sensors."

The humans exchanged glances. "Umm…"

"Come on." Long, dark finger-like things beckoned them inside. "Probably a reason for you to be standing there for so long."

"Yeah. Thanks… uh…"

"Whirl."

"Whirl. Right. Thanks." They kind of edged their way around Whirl as he kept the door open for them. It wasn't just the fact that he was so large that made them extra nervous around the Wrecker. Jimmy and Verity had gotten used to Jazz's visor and Wheeljack and Optimus Prime's facemasks and all the other added… kibble each Autobot had but in the end they all looked fairly humanoid. Whirl, though, had no distinguishing facial features, was just one great big eye (how did he talk? Or eat or… whatever it was they did to refuel?) and it was somewhat disconcerting to them.

Inside the temporary squad bay crates had been shifted around to act as tables and chairs. Some were cleaning weapons, others sorting through strange objects- probably taking an inventory. Springer was one of the former and he glanced at the humans briefly. "Must've been some trek making your way down here on your own."

Verity crossed her arms. "Some of us are used to walking."

"I'm assuming," the green mech said conversationally, "you didn't come down all that way just for a little exercise."

Jimmy cleared his throat. For the most part the Wreckers didn't pay them any mind though a couple did look at them like some interesting scientific screw-up. He decided he preferred being looked at in the box. At least then he couldn't tell if someone was thinking about taking him apart to see what made him tick. "We were hoping you could help us look for Sunstreaker."

"Our orders are as stands," Springer told them, not breaking his rhythm, "we are to deal with Sixshot and act as support when and where we are needed. We are not to interfere with any other missions outside our duty that the detachment is involved in. This includes any actions regarding the recovery of Sunstreaker."

The two humans were shocked silent. "Who," Verity eventually croaked," who told you _that_?"

"Those are our orders."

"So that's it?" Verity snapped. "You're just going to roll over to Prowl's every order just like everyone else? I thought you guys were supposed to be different! Whatever happened to 'leave no one behind' or is that a concept foreign to you guys!?"

The room went still and every optic went to Springer. Quietly, as if her outburst never happened, he kept cleaning his rifle. Jimmy put a hand on Verity's shoulder, guiding her back and he tried to appeal to their more sensible side. "We had a friend that was with Sunstreaker." He said lowly. "We thought he died in the explosion and we just want to know what happened to him. But no one does anything and no one will tell us anything… Jazz said you'd help."

Silence stretched on, broken only by the soft whine of the triplechanger checking the power levels of the energy cells. "Sandstorm." He said blandly, not looking up. "I'm reading some interference on our comm. Power down the room until we can isolate the source."

"Got it, Chief." The orange and yellow 'bot got up, jimmied open a panel neither humans noticed and fiddled with it. The room was immediately plunged into black and Verity yelped.

There was a beat and Jimmy realized his heart was suddenly in his ears. "I'm gonna take a shot in the dark," he said a little warily, "and say that was probably against some sort of regulations."

"When I see you again, I'm gonna punch you for that pun." Verity's disembodied voice told him.

There was the heavy clunk of footsteps and the two stood frozen in place, hoping these guys had some kind of night vision because being squashed sounded like a bad, bad thing. "Yeah, it was." Springer's voice was softer but a lot closer. "So is this discussion we're about to have. Security cameras can be a pain like that."

A light flared down at the two and they winced. Squinting, they could just barely make out the Wreckers' leader kneeling down in front of them. Over his shoulder various colored optics floated eerily. Verity took that moment to punch Jimmy in the arm. "Ow!"

Before he could retaliate or protest, Springer spoke to them. "The first thing you need to understand is there are always procedures for everything and this situation is no different, just complicated. Second, yes- Prowl is in charge of this detachment and as such if Jazz, Ratchet or anyone else doesn't want to put themselves and _you_ in a bad position they have to do as they're ordered. But Prime is Prowl's superior and if he thought that Prowl's decisions are wrong, he wouldn't hesitate to intervene."

Jimmy and Verity felt their hearts sink. "So you're really not going to do anything?"

There was a scoff from somewhere in the back. "Belligerency in the name of fun is one thing, but this is not the situation to pick a fight in. We have two mechs in high orbit already hacked into your world network, working in tandem with the Ark crew to find information on the Decepticons' next step. That is the main objective. The secondary is information on the 'M' group of yours. At all times one of them is up and working and the other is trying to find any leads on Sunstreaker on his off-time. It's a lot of information to sort through, not a lot of time and just one mech trying to do this as subtly as possible. After you two and Ironhide nearly got yourselves blown up Prowl's been keeping a tighter reign on his troops. His job is to keep the operation running smoothly and covertly and that can't be done with everyone running on their own agenda and putting themselves in danger." His expression was stern and the two humans felt a little pang of guilt for their part in causing trouble.

"I know Prowl and I know he knows we're going behind his back and he probably knows we got some added help from his crew. But so long as it doesn't interfere with our primary objective or the mission overall, he'll turn a blind eye to this. Believe it or not, I'll bet he wants to find Sunstreaker as much as anyone, but right now there's something more pressing going on."

Verity dropped her gaze and said quietly. "We just want to know what happened to our friend. We just want to know if Hunter is still alive."

"I know." Springer stood up in a soft whir of shifting gears and lifts. "That's why we're helping you. But you need to have patience and you need to trust us." He looked into the dark though the light stayed toward the feet of the humans. "Sandstorm, power it up."

A thrum vibrated through the room and the lights faded on. By the bulkhead, Sandstorm put the panel back in its place, sealing it until it was nearly as invisible as before. A little awkwardly the teens looked at the towering Wreckers. "Um… thanks." Jimmy said, rubbing his neck.

"Yeah." Verity added. "Thank you."

"You should get back to your quarters before someone starts to worry. Spin, go with 'em."

"Yessir!" Before they could move, though, the door opened and there stood Prowl.

"This sector's power was off." He said in a way that blatantly stated 'I know you're the ones responsible'.

"Had some static." Springer's tone stated 'why would you think that?' right back at him.

"Any trouble?" 'You can't lie to me'.

"Just neglected to recalibrate our frequencies to sync after the jump." 'You've got no proof'.

Prowl's doorwings gave a little hitch, obviously not believing the line, but he didn't press the issue without evidence. "Be more attentive in the future." He nodded down to the humans. "Jimmy, Verity, I'll escort you back."

"Okay." The two followed the police interceptor quietly. Verity hung back enough to give the Wreckers a grateful smile before she disappeared around the doorway.

* * *

Khareesa: It's fun writing them!

Star Lin: That would be AWESOME if you could, though!

Jason: I'm tempted to use some Burt quotes in here somewhere...

Teh: I think the other option would be... well, exactly what Octane did XD Though really I think the other Wreckers wouldn't even both walking away to privacy to laugh their afts off.

Jennifer: Ratchet would have an apoplectic fit if he was the one that had to pull them apart.

Veglma: Thank you!

Azure: Sometimes it's hard to figure out if they're being silly or just stupid. I actually worry that I use Springer TOO much. He's my favorite, can you tell?

Hellsfirescythe: I'm... actually a little surprised that the humans a fun to write. And the Sixshot one probably took place... between Thunderwing's first defeat and before the current roster.


	72. In Love Wreckers

What's Wrong with a Little Destruction?  
The Wreckers

The continuing awesomeness of IDW's top strikeforce!

Note: Passing reference to In the Rain Wreckers. I wanted to use the Aerialbots at least once (I like the guys, what can I say?) though this wasn't my original intention, but it works. An aileron roll, by the way, is an aircraft maneuver that is generally mislabeled as a barrel roll. Meaning Star Fox got it wrong.

* * *

18. In Love Wreckers

_"Love is like swallowing hot chocolate before it has cooled off. It takes you by surprise at first, but keeps you warm for a long time."  
-Unknown_

They groaned loudly. "Aw, not the Aerialbots!" Of all the units in the Autobot ranks the jets were probably the ones the Wreckers liked least. Not all of them, anyway. Silverbolt was just about everything a leader should be and Skydive's incredible skill and modesty was refreshing. And, yeah, Air Raid was fun to mess around with and they really couldn't hold Fireflight's scatterbrain against him (for long). Really it was just Slingshot's 'better than everyone' attitude they couldn't stand. And the fact that whenever he was around Air Raid and Fireflight's fun meter took a very sharp turn into jerk-face territory.

It wasn't exactly a one-sided feeling, either. The Wreckers (who Slingshot scoffed as being made up of 'groundpounders, part-timers and a whirligig') were elitist in their collective opinion (rather, in Slingshot's opinion and Air Raid and Fireflight's whenever he was there). It really made the Wreckers appreciate how worn out Silverbolt got at the end of the day having to deal with them. Even if they were the best fliers out of the Autobot forces, the Wreckers still preferred not having to deal if they could help it.

Sandstorm steeled himself, thrusters flaring hot but with all the damage he'd already taken he couldn't lose Dirge. "Conehead on my six- can't shake 'im!" Can't say he was really thinking all that clearly either, what with Dirge focusing his engine's frequencies on the triplechanger (guess he was a little upset about getting robbed then beaten up earlier). A shot scored right through one of Sandstorm's elevon and he wobbled, nearly stalling out.

And then he noticed Fireflight coming straight at him. "What the slag- Flight! You're not Ramjet! Get outta the way!" The Aerialbot didn't give any indication he heard or even noticed Sandstorm and didn't deviate from his flight path. Sandstorm felt panic welling up. Great, shot down and run into, what a way to end the day. "Fireflight! Pull out!"

Except he didn't and just as Sandstorm braced himself for impact the jet did an aileron roll just as neat as you please. It was so eloquently done Sandstorm could sense the nearness of Fireflight's wings and tail but barely felt the crosswind.

The move shocked Dirge even more and he tried to peel off, giving Fireflight a wider profile to pepper with fire. The Decepticon spiraled out of the fight and Sandstorm's internals gave a sweet clench as he realized what just happened. So much he nearly lost what meager control he had over his flight and almost went into a yaw which- given his current state –would've pitched him into an adverse yaw and then the ground. As quick as he was able to, Sandstorm landed but by then the Decepticon forces were already pulling back from the skirmish.

Afterwards, in the hangar after only getting the barest of patches done, Sandstorm jogged up to the Aerialbots to the astonishment of all. "Hey, Fireflight!"

"Yeah?" He looked briefly at Slingshot, then crossed his arms unconvincingly. "I mean- what?"

Undeterred Sandstorm's optics glowed. "That was some impressive flying you did today."

"…really?" No one outside of his team ever said that to him. They'd say it to the others- even Slingshot –but never to Fireflight.

"Really. And that maneuver you did to hit Dirge? Sorry, Skydive, but I don't think you could've done better."

Fireflight puffed up with pride. Someone was saying he could do something better than Skydive! Something that was good! "W-Well, ya know." He stuttered slightly, shifting his weight modestly. "Just helping a fellow Autobot is all."

"That doesn't make it any less amazing." Sandstorm's short wing fell just short of brushing against Fireflight's nosecone. Even if the jet didn't notice it his sensors did and he reflexively tilted away just slightly to keep from bumping into it. The triplechanger used this to herd Fireflight out of the hangar, all the while buttering him up.

The Wreckers watched in amusement. "So how long do you think this will last?" Twin Twist asked with a slight grin.

"Given Sandstorm's habit of mouthing off and Slingshot's disapproving look- five cycles tops." Said Roadbuster.

"I don't know- Sandstorm's managed to charm some long shots before." Broadside returned.

Optics shifted slyly and processors calculated. "Gentlebots- what are your wagers?"

* * *

Jason: But... which quote? He has too many that are just awesome!

Universal: My pleasure!

Teh: It's all about the lesser explored perspective, I think.

Azure: Hee, well in my experience most military tends to be goofy. But when you're a professional you'll know when to be a goof and when to get your shit together, you know? True I'm diverging from official IDW canon (mainly from things taking place in Devastation) but most of the other stuff- like the twins -takes place before Infiltration. And funny you should mention a non-femme pairing...

Cafei: Haha, I've been there and I've done that. That was most definitely awkward o.O; And Verity cracks me up, really.

Tomorrow: That's because he knows the Wreckers are causing some kind of trouble XD

Guess: Am I actually suppose to be guessing? Because I haven't a clue. But thanks for the reviews! And I'd say Topspin wasn't trying to get information from Vortex, he was just happy to have someone to (physiologically speaking) geek with.


	73. Request: Red Alert and Wreckers

What's Wrong with a Little Destruction?  
The Wreckers

The continuing awesomeness of IDW's top strikeforce!

Note: Requested by FloofWolfe. Because getting certified yearly sucks ass.

* * *

Request: Red Alert and Wreckers 

_"No matter how much you study for a test you will be asked a question that you don't know."  
-David Poole_

"Aw, Red Alert! C'mon!"

The security officer looked on with an increasingly impatient expression. "That's policy. Can't make special exceptions for everyone."

Springer growled in the back of his vocalizer at no one. Leaning against the far wall of the office was Roadbuster, quietly observing. "You can't seriously revoke _all_ of our clearance!"

"I'm not revoking anyone's clearance." Red Alert said, slightly smug since _he's_ finally the one not getting a processor short dealing with the Wreckers. "Safety precautions, you know. Your entire crew has to be cleared on basic ordnance handling or else I can't authorize your transporting even low-grade explosives."

"He passed last time!"

"And he failed this time." He brought a datapad up to his face to hide the growing smug in his expression. "If you didn't insist on waiting for the last possible moment to renew your clearance, I could've gotten him retested."

Springer leaned his hands on Red Alert's desk. "Are you seriously going to go through with this?"

"Of course. It doesn't matter if the rest of you are certified at the highest level- so long as Whirl isn't cleared, your handling explosives of any sort is a safety issue. If there's a problem with policy, you can take it up with Prime."

The triplechanger stared down the red and white and wondered- not for the first time –why the hell Inferno or Firestar couldn't be there to distract him. From the back Roadbuster said, "I guess we will just have to take it up to him, then."

The other two mechs turned to look at him in surprise. Springer caught on first. "Yeah." He turned back to Red Alert. "We won't be able to do our job effectively if we can't get full armament, after all."

Red Alert's optics flickered between the two, getting the distinct feeling he had missed something. "I can't just give him the clearance." He told them. "Not with the score he got."

"Let him retest."

Red Alert pulled back. "What- _now_?"

"Give us two cycles." Springer bargained. "You don't have to turn in clearance updates until the start of first shift, right? Let him retest."

The security officer looked dubious. "I don't know. It was a pretty abysmal score…"

"C'mon, Red Alert- if he fails again, who'll it hurt? I mean asides from us. And anyone that will be expecting us to handle a little demolitions."

"Isn't that how we pulled Inferno's aft out of a tight spot last time?" Roadbuster added lightly. "Blew up key sections to the Decepticons' transportation array which forced the line to fall back?"

"Yeah. His detachment was getting schooled by the time we got there."

Red Alert scowled. "Okay, fine! I'll let him retest!"

Springer pumped a fist. "Yes!"

"Twin Twist, Scoop, Sandstorm." Roadbuster called on the comm. "Get Whirl in the common area and start pounding every bit of ordnance knowledge you can into him. I'll meet you in 10."

"_Primus slaggit!_" Whirl could be heard faintly on the other end of the comm. "_I don't deal with the smelting explosives!_"

"Make sure he doesn't wipe the information from his memory afterwards this time." Springer said with a scowl. Roadbuster nodded at him, and then to Red Alert before turning and striding out.

The security officer looked up at Springer with an unconvinced look. "It'll be impossible for him to pass with just two cycles to study. He wasn't anywhere close last time."

He just got a cocky grin back. "Where've you been, Red? Impossible is what we do."

* * *

Dragon: They'll probably bet on anything and everything that seems amusing at the time XD 

Jason: I'm kinda really fond of the one, "I ran out of ammo. That's never happened to me before."

Teh: They prefer the term 'opportunists' XD

Azure: I adore the Aerialbots, they were the first Gestalt team I really liked. Fireflight and Air Raid are my two favorites but I like them all. Look forward to reading what you got!

Veglma: Haha, well... honestly that was just going to be a one-time joke. And then... it spiraled out of control so there's going to be some mentions of it in the future...


	74. Request: Wheeljack and Wreckers

What's Wrong with a Little Destruction?  
The Wreckers

The continuing awesomeness of IDW's top strikeforce!

Note: Requested by Tecuma, JML and Bai Lang. Pre-Infiltration, obviously. Evens and odds, for those that don't know, is a simple game where everyone stands in a circle, puts a hand in with any number of fingers held out. You add up the amount of fingers and if it's an odd number, everyone that put out an even number of fingers loses and vice-versa. And I just realized that… there's actually barely any Wheeljack in here at all. Oops.

* * *

Request: Wheeljack and Wreckers 

_"Explosions are not comfortable."  
-Yevgeny Zamyatin_

With Sandstorm around it was difficult to find a means of gambling that he couldn't cheat at. In cases where his underhanded skills were most definitely _not_ needed, their means turned to a fledgling game of random chance- evens and odds.

Most of the Wreckers had already been eliminated leaving only Whirl, Roadbuster and Scoop competing. Watching with great humor and interest (especially since they were in his lab) was Wheeljack. The lab doors opened up, letting Jetfire in just in time to catch a 'three, two, shoot!'

Roadbuster tossed his hands in the air. "Well that's that!" He stepped back as Scoop and Whirl faced off, a grim look on their faceplates.

Not entirely certain what was going on, Jetfire asked, "What are you doing?"

"Wheeljack developed a new weapon." Came the hushed reply, all optics on the game. "We're seeing who tests it."

"Oh." He said intelligently. Jetfire stood and watched the two Wreckers tossing their hands between them- evens every time –thrice before commenting, "You do know this will probably blow up, right?"

Wheeljack let out an indignant, "Hey!" but the others just shrugged. "Probably."

"So why don't you just have _him_ test it?"

All optics swiveled to the white jet. "What- and let him have all the fun?"

Jetfire tried to process this. "So… the loser has to test it out?"

They were interrupted by a triumphant crow and Scoop bounded happily toward the engineer. The rest of them groaned, having missed the winning round.

"Loser?" Scoop asked with a wide, innocent and overly excited grin. "I fragging _won_ this!"

Jetfire just shook his head and decided whatever he came down here for could wait until after Wheeljack was released from medical. "I'll never understand Wreckers."

* * *

Rialla: Glad to know I pulled him off okay! I've never written Red Alert before :P 

Veglma: Yes. They won't leave me be D:

Teh: Very much so.

Jason: He's got so many great quotes it's just too hard to narrow it down!

Jennifer: Well, I'm glad to have been of service! Good luck with whatever you're studying about!

Cafei: Ugh, math... Math is one of my three mortal enemies DX


	75. Request: Watching TV Wreckers

What's Wrong with a Little Destruction?  
The Wreckers

The continuing awesomeness of IDW's top strikeforce!

Note: Requested by JML and Teh. Takes place after Jazz, Prowl versus Wreckers III. And, apparently, the Appalachian chain is actually part of those found in both Morocco and Scotland.

Also Note: If anyone wants to see what I was working on that kept me from updating daily last month, just go to ajremix(dot)deviantart(dot)com.

* * *

Request: Watching TV Wreckers

_"All television is educational television. The question is: what is it teaching?"  
-Nicholas Johnson_

It was almost painfully easy to spot when a Wrecker was planning on doing something idiotic and reckless. It tended to start with some very strange questions of which Prowl came upon as he entered Ark-19's command center. Bumblebee was at his post with Topspin and Whirl on either side of him. That was the first warning sign. The second was the first sentence he heard.

"So those are the closest, biggest mountains to us?"

"Yup. The Appalachians." Bumblebee told them, happy to be the one to be in the know instead of being treated as the youngest in the detachment. "They're some of the oldest mountains on the planet and were originally formed before the continental drift. The Rockies are much younger and larger but they're halfway across the continent."

"What about Alaska?" Whirl asked. Topspin scoffed.

"Yeah right. There's no way we could get that far without someone noticing we're gone and doing an orbital jump is just asking to get caught."

Prowl frowned to himself. After the… paint incident (in which Prowl and Jazz subjected themselves to threat of great bodily harm to distract and calm Ratchet from completely dismantling the strike force) the two groups agreed to put the whole ordeal behind them and agreed to discontinue their particular brand of stealth training. However that obviously didn't mean the Wreckers were done being a pain in Prowl's aft. "What are you looking for?" He queried with pointed innocence.

The two Wreckers leaned back while Bumblebee hastily pretended to be hard at work. "Hey, Prowl!" The blue and white greeted jovially. "Just looking for some mountains to jump off of!"

That ran a hitch in his logic circuits. "Dare I ask why?"

"The humans were showing us some choice selections of their local programming."

"Which ones?" He has a sinking suspicion it wouldn't be a good compilation.

"Stunt Junkies." Topspin said.

"X Games." Added Whirl.

"Junkyard Wars."

"Battle Bots."

"Mythbusters."

"MXC."

"Fear Factor."

"I see." Prowl interrupted quickly, not wanting to know what else they got hooked on.

"You gotta wonder where they come up with some of these things!" Topspin said, obviously taken by human culture.

"Yeah, I mean- strapping a piece of wood to your feet and jumping off rock faces several times one's height? With organics being as physically weak as they are?" Whirl shook his head. "We gotta try that."

Prowl frowned at them. "No. You don't. And most definitely not in the middle of a mission. And if I find you trying to copy anything you've seen on these televised programs- especially this… 'Battle Bots'," didn't they get enough of that in their daily lives? "I will place a lock on all those shows you've just listed."

The two Wreckers deflated. "Aw…"

"We should probably tell Wheeljack to stop, huh?"

"Yeah."

Prowl almost didn't resist the urge to slap a hand over his optics.

* * *

Khareesa: Actually when I first started these up I really didn't know what kind of response I'd get so I'm really happy that it's gotten so much attention at all!

Teh: I should, really. I mean, I owe it to Wheeljack after putting him in the title and then giving the spotlight to Jetfire :P

Cafei: Phones and stupid people.

Kyarorin: Oooo, you know she absolutely would!

Bai Lang: Pleasure to be of service!

Tomorrow: Glad to hear it!

Jason: Yeah. One line and that's it. Poor guy. Guess that means I have to do another one?

Jordie: Thank you! I'm glad you've been enjoying it!

Veglma: Yeah. Actually if you look at my dA account I have some AU stuff on there, too.

Azure: I agree. I don't think either Fireflight or Air Raid are particularly stupid, they just seem more like natural followers and since Slingshot has such a strong personality, they'd listen to him. He probably tends to have more fun off-time wise than Silverbolt or Skydive anyway. And I like the easily-distracted and naturally curious-type Flight, myself.

Star Lin: I'm sorry! You need to get a poncho for your computer! D:


	76. Request: Elita1 and Wreckers

What's Wrong with a Little Destruction?  
The Wreckers

The continuing awesomeness of IDW's top strikeforce!

Note: Requested by TJ and Seekeress. In my personal canon Sandstorm is the second most recent member and was recruited under unconventional means (the Wreckers needed someone with more intelligence than firepower for recon and Sandstorm was a neutral given the choice of enlisting or going to jail for running illegal gambling rings) and therefore has a very different outlook than the others. This takes place not long after he joins up.

* * *

Request: Elita-1 and Wreckers 

_"Whatever women do they must do twice as well as men to be thought half as good. Luckily, this is not difficult."  
-Charlotte Whitton_

In hindsight Springer felt he really should've warned one of the two before someone said the wrong thing. And it was probably Sandstorm that needed that warning the most. Right now, though? Right now he was too busy muffling an 'oh slag' against his wrist. He, like most of his Wreckers, was waiting to see just how this exchange would go with much anticipation.

"Excuse me?" Elita-1 said in the kind of tone that said 'I heard very well what you said, thank you very much, and you have one chance to apologize for it'. "What was that?"

The newest Wrecker's optics flickered to his team, wondering how they could just sit by and allow this. "I said," Sandstorm said slowly, annunciating carefully, "It's not a good idea for you to go out there."

The femme's expression turned stony cold. "And why would that be?"

Obviously, the former neutral thought, the war really screwed up on higher processing functions if he was the only one that thought something was wrong with this scenario. "It's a warzone, for one thing." He drawled. "There's going to be a lot of shooting and death for another."

"If this is some sort of backhanded gallantry-"

"Gallantry?" He scoffed. "Look- I've known some pretty tough femmes in my time and I'm sure you can handle yourself," this was said, of course, with such sarcasm it was difficult to tell if Sandstorm actually believed that or not, "but this isn't some barroom brawl. Face it. Femmes aren't built to handle the sort of punishment a mech can. You're not as strong, you're not as tough and you're not as powerful." He waved a hand toward the slender 'bot. "It's all written in physics. You're lack of mass and armor just leaves you incompetent in a full out battle. Guerilla tactics- yeah, I could see that. You're fast, agile and difficult to target. But this isn't some urban area with a lot of places for you to duck behind. This is the actual _front_ and I for one don't want to put my chassis on the line when you end up falling in battle because you just had to prove that you could run with mechs."

Everyone in the control room (the Wreckers, Elita and her inner circle of officers) looked at Sandstorm in various stages of horror and amusement. The Wreckers, of course, being the latter group. "Oh my slag, oh my slag, oh my slag." Springer had to physically bite down on a finger to keep from busting a gasket laughing. "I can't believe he actually said all that!" The others didn't look like they'd be able to keep it in for much longer. Hell- Broadside's entire body was rocking with silent cackling.

The look Sandstorm gave them was part boggled, part annoyed. "Oh, c'mon! Don't tell me you actually think she can do this! Femmes have been practically wiped out because they're physically incapable of handling battles- you know as well as I do she's just going to put everyone in danger."

Elita-1 gave him a tight-lipped, frozen-edged smile. "Is that so?" The purr of her vocalizer promising dark things. "In that case- Sandstorm, is it? –you get to be part of my rearguard."

The triplechanger jolted. "What!?"

They couldn't help themselves any longer and the Wreckers burst into loud snickers. "Springer," she went on, "you get to join him."

"What- hey!"

All pretense of humor dropped as she regarded the green mech. "Newly recruited or not, as his superior officer it is your duty to ensure he understands the situation. All aspects of it. Newly recruited or not, you should make sure he understands the distinction between suggesting and insulting." Elita-1 turned her frosty gaze back to Sandstorm. "I hope you enjoyed that little criticism of yours, soldier-bot. That's the last unfounded one you'll get at my expense." She picked up a rifle and rested it against her shoulders, hips canted in a way that stated she was about to put the pain in someone's aft. "We're sticking to the plan. Let's move."

As the others teams moved into their groups, Springer and Sandstorm trailed behind the officers following Elita. "Nice one." Springer groused, slapping Sandstorm across the back of the helmet. "You've just emasculated the both of us."

The other growled. "Well don't come whining at me when you're the one dead at the end of this."

"Why would I be the only one dead?"

He gave Springer a look as if he really had to ask. "You kidding me? I'll be using your body as a fragging shield."

* * *

Veglma: Knowing them, they'd probably damage themselves in the act and get Ratchet all fragged off at them AGAIN. 

Jennifer: I'll bet their next vacation will have them doing all the extreme sports they can modify for their size XD

Kyarorin: If they do, I'll bet they'll never admit it to anyone.

Ilyusha: I'm glad you've been enjoying them!

Jason: Being saved by the guys that they pranked was probably a real sting to their ego, actually.

Teh: True enough.

VAWitch: Never watched that show, myself. Actually I was referring more to Wheeljack creating little drones for them to have battles with ala Battle Bots. And I doubt it'll be too long before Jazz or Wreckers decide to bug each other again.


	77. Request: Jazz and Wreckers

What's Wrong with a Little Destruction?  
The Wreckers

The continuing awesomeness of IDW's top strikeforce!

Note: Requested by FloofWolfe. Pre-Infiltration.

* * *

Request: Jazz and Wreckers 

_"Everything in this world has a hidden meaning."  
-Nikos Kazantzakis_

This was definitely not one of their usual missions but what was riding on it was enough to make the Wreckers withhold any complaints. Half the team was on Xantium, keeping in orbit and ready for a quick getaway should it come down to it. The other half had taken a shuttle down to a planet close to overrun with Decepticons. This was a covert operation, forcing them to switch alt modes and interact among the locals subtly as they attempted to find their goal: find and extract a missing agent, one Autobot Jazz.

The black and white special ops officer had gone to the planet to dig up some information on the Decepticons' next plan of attack in the sector. The planet was one of the few that they had managed to gain control of before the Autobots had realized they had their sights set on it. They were helped by the fact the local government was corrupt and easily manipulated and fairly happy to help the Decepticons out in exchange for controlling their planet entirely. Even if they were merely puppets. And when Jazz had gone a mega-cycle out of contact longer than he should have been, it was obvious that something had happened to him. And with the information he could've picked up and the kind of information he could have access to, leaving Jazz in the hands of Decepticon forces was a definite not-going-to-happen.

"I've run out of leads, Springer." Roadbuster said over his tight link. Because they were in enemy territory they were forced to use short-range communications, causing the search party to stick to moving as a group and limiting their canvassing ability.

"_Same here._" Topspin added. "_I've just been getting the runaround._"

The triplechanger sounded haggard and frustrated. Not that Roadbuster could blame him- they'd been spending entire planetary rotations searching. "_Slagging Jazz, always making things difficult._"

"_You want me to try to dig around more?_" Sandstorm didn't sound much more alert or energetic as the others but Jazz was an old friend and a good buddy of his. Letting him go without some sort of idea of what happened didn't sit right with him.

"_Looks like you'll have to._"

"I'm heading back to the shuttle to refuel." Roadbuster groused. "Slagging hate this alt mode." When they came to this planet they didn't anticipate how long they'd possibly be searching and were highly displeased to find just how cumbersome and wasteful these vehicles were. Especially Roadbuster's whose alt mode was the largest and most squandering of the lot. He approached the hidden shuttle on a meandering line, putting all his sensors to full to ensure no one had followed him.

As he approached, though, there was an odd blip on his scans. He rolled slowly, cautiously to the shuttle, trying to pinpoint just where it was coming from and what it could be. This temporary alt mode didn't offer much in the ways of weaponry so he transformed, two bits of weaponry ready for anything.

There was some sort of rhythmic tapping- the Wrecker zeroed in on its origin and whirled, both rifles aimed and armed and-

Roadbuster nearly recycled his optics to make sure he saw correctly. "J-"

The formerly-missing saboteur silently held a finger up to his lips, mouth component forming a soundless 'shh'. Roadbuster's optic band narrowed but he lowered his weapons and nodded. Jazz tapped against the side of the shuttle again, but this time Roadbuster recognized it for what it was: an old telegraph key. It tapped out, his processor translated, _Don't talk, been bugged_.

Beneath his facemask, Roadbuster frowned and tapped back: _Local or internal?_

_Internal. Jammed up locator._

_You look terrible._

Jazz's lips quirked a bit. _Feel terrible._

_Let's get you extracted._ Roadbuster gave the special ops mech a pointed look and opened a comm link. "Springer, we've exhausted our leads. You know as well as I do that Jazz can't be found if he doesn't want to be and if we can't get in contact with him…"

There was a long pause on the other end. It was a gamble, but Roadbuster had faith. "_Are you suggesting that we just leave him behind?_"

"I'm suggesting we do what we can and if we can't do more, go where we'd be of use. For all we know he already found his own way off-planet."

Another long pause and Springer said, "_Sandstorm, make another round, see if you can't get anything new. Topspin, you and I will keep on the road until he reports back. Roadbuster, ready the shuttle just in case. If there's no more leads… I guess we don't really have a choice, then. Springer out._" Roadbuster's optic band narrowed in satisfaction. After so many centuries working together the two knew exactly what the other intended by mere inflection.

Roadbuster looked at Jazz and tapped out, _Ready to go?_

With the way Jazz seemed to suddenly sag, strain and wounds finally catching up to him, Roadbuster thought he'd fall over. _Primus- yes, please._

* * *

Teh: Heehee, when I saw that quote I knew I had to use it for something! 

Vierge: I'm glad you enjoyed all the chapters!

Veglma, Kage, Star Lin: Springer denies he actually deserved that, but Sandstorm totally did.

Khareesa: And if she can't whoop your aft, she'll find some way to make you hate life XD

Jason: Wreckers? Humble? Definitely not.

Hellsfirescythe: Oh, he learned his lesson after Elita. But that doesn't mean he didn't do other stupid things regarding Arcee, I'll bet.

VAWitch: The fact that you read this out loud to your friend tickles me greatly XD

TJ: Something 'more' in particular?

Tomorrow: We could certainly see the aftermath of her aft-kicking if you'd like...

Azure: I saw! Is it terrible that I imagine that Air Raid was actually flying BETTER after getting his circuits scrambled?


	78. Special: Fierce Wreckers

What's Wrong with a Little Destruction?  
The Wreckers

The continuing awesomeness of IDW's top strikeforce!

Note: To celebrate the birth of a brotherhood. Semper Fi, Devildogs.

* * *

Special: Fierce Wreckers 

_"We were born in a Bomb Crater, our Mother was an M-16 and our Father was the Devil. Each moment that I live is an additional threat upon your life. I am a rough looking, roving soldier of the sea. I am cocky, self-centered, overbearing, and do not know the meaning of fear, for I am fear itself."  
-Marine Corps saying_

Wavelength fidgeted at his station. By all rights he should be looking forward to this- he never did much like being stationed on this planet and finally getting to Phase Six meant he'd be off this rock soon. But something about the situation didn't sit right with him and he didn't know why. The battle outside the base was hard going but they were slowly pushing the Autobot forces back but still the worry persisted.

His commander for this stint, Driveshaft, stood over his shoulder with a frown apparent in his optic band. After so long working with the communications officers as his second he could tell when the smaller mech was waffling on some decision. That was why he'd never have a command of his own- always second guessing everything.

"Stop worrying." He snapped. "Everything is going fine." By all rights Driveshaft should be out there in the thick of it, but he's done this planetary take-over enough times before to know that someone needed to be in the rear to direct the action. He hated sitting in the rear. He'd prefer to leave that to the weaker mechs like Wavelength if he developed the struts to actually make an order.

"There's something wrong, I'm sure of it." Wavelength insisted, messing around with controls in a way Driveshaft couldn't follow. "There's some kind of interference in our orbital relays that shouldn't be there and I can't make sense of it."

"Bah. It's just echoes from the Autobot ships up there."

"No, it's not." Wavelength frowned at the controls. "I know what those sound like and this isn't it. It seems more… deliberate."

The commander growled a little. "If we're not picking up anything more substantial than some minor interference, then it's probably some space noise. Happens all the time."

Frustrated that he wasn't being listened to (as he hadn't been since he started this assignment) Wavelength let the argument drop. But he kept trying to pinpoint just what about it was bothering him. Driveshaft, meanwhile, leaned over to the global communications panel to warn about a flanking maneuver and was about halfway through his sentence when he realized he was getting static.

"What the frag?" He smacked Wavelength's shoulder. "Wave- what's going on?"

The communications officer frowned and leaned over to run some diagnostics. "Nothing's down, response is fine. Something must be mixing up the network over the field."

Driveshaft's optic band narrowed. "Get Turbine to scramble some Seekers and check it out."

Wavelength moved to comply. And found that communications line was also non-functional. He tried a few others. "Nothing. Either the Autobots have put up a scrambler net over everything- which is unlikely because it would render most of their communications inoperative as well –or someone's got an invasive jammer attached to our comm relay." Which would, he hoped he wouldn't have to explain to Driveshaft, mean either there were Autobots just inside the perimeter or already within the base.

Apparently he didn't because Driveshaft was moving for the doors, itching to actually _do_ something. "Internal communications shouldn't be affected, should they?"

"No, just external."

"Good." He opened up a comm link as he moved into the halls. "Turbine- get your squad to meet me on 6th deck. We've got some possible glitch-mice what needs flushing out."

"_Understood._" Turbine replied.

That made Driveshaft pause slightly in mid-stride. But he shook his head and continued on. Turbine was a whiner, but since he was regulated as part of the rear guard with the others that were injured early in the battle, he was probably as anxious for any kind of action as Driveshaft was.

As he made his way from the lift to the corridor he was surprised to read eight signals coming up on his proximity scans. He knew the rear guard wanted some action but they didn't need so many to do some basic searching. Nearing them he opened his mouth component.

"Turbine- all you needed was a squad not a-"

The signal that registered on his scanners as the Seeker turned out to be very large and very gray and the hand that clamped over him nearly encompassed his entire head. But there was still enough room for him to see bodies of the other Decepticons splashed across the hall in parts and gore. "Sorry," the strange mech said lowly and the muzzle of a rifle was pressed against his chest, right over his spark, "Turbine don't live here anymore."

And then his chest exploded.

* * *

It wasn't even half a cycle later before Wavelength read eight Decepticon signals coming toward him. But, being a communications specialist, he was also reading a faint echo of something that he really shouldn't and was already on his feet with his rifle ready before the signals reached the door. 

Except when it opened the only thing that came in was a flash grenade that exploded right in front of him. "Ah!" He tried to recycle his optics, the multiple and odd signals confusing his scanners too much for him to point and shoot. By the time he could finally make out shapes again, something ducked up under him and stabbed through his midsection. His rifle clattered out of stunned, numb fingers and he just _stared_, even as the blade ripped up, nearly tearing him in two.

Springer didn't give the body another look as he took a cleaning pad from a compartment, wiping off his sword as he ordered his team. "Squad 2, canvas the base- ensure no other Decepticons are here. Squad 1, take down the scrambler and seal off all extraneous halls. Scoop, you stay here and help me lock down the defenses."

"Roger that." The other Wreckers nodded and moved on to their missions.

* * *

"_Attention Decepticons!_" An unfamiliar voice boomed over their planetwide commlink. "_This is the Autobot Wreckers letting you know that we are now in control of your base! That gives you two options: surrender or entertain us. I will warn you though,_" the voice said with dark, sadistic pleasure, "_if you prove to be boring then we'll have to make our own fun._" 

The Autobot forces looked on in shock as Decepticon after Decepticon threw down their weapons and raised their hands in submission.

* * *

Teh: Yeah, FF was being a real pain with formatting for some reason. Took me about five times to get it to how it was suppose to finally look... 

Dragon: It is always nice to see characters in new situations. Makes them more rounded and believable.

Veglma: Yes they will XD

VAWitch: Heehee, fish away I say!

DragoWolf: Thank you for reading! I'll try to get to your request as soon as I can!

Jason: It's probably harder to find someone that DOESN'T like Jazz, really.


	79. Request: Hot Rod and Wreckers

What's Wrong with a Little Destruction?  
The Wreckers

The continuing awesomeness of IDW's top strikeforce!

Note: Requested by Desondas and Rialla.

* * *

Request: Hot Rod and Wreckers 

_"If pleasures are greatest in anticipation, just remember that this is also true of troubles."  
-Elbert Hubbard_

There were good and bad things about his having Roadbuster running interference on Springer. The good was he had a lot of experience on it so he had little problem distracting the triplechanger and he never felt the need to ask why he was doing this. The bad was that when Springer realized what his second was doing it just made him all the more determined to hunt Hot Rod down and find out what crazy mission had volunteered for this time. Hot Rod didn't like going behind Springer's back like that, but the older mech made a bigger deal out of these solo missions than Arcee did. She kept saying the two of them needed to talk about this but they refused. That is Hot Rod refused and whenever Springer tried to bring it up he made tracks out of there.

"He just doesn't get it!" Hot Road whined to Roadbuster. "I _like_ doing things on my own! I work better by myself!"

Which was as blatant a lie as ever been told to him but Roadbuster just shrugged. Domestic issues weren't his problem. "He just worries about you is all."

"I know that, but I've done this solo thing enough times to know how to take care of myself." He waved his hands, trying to articulate his frustration. "It's like… like he doesn't think I can do this- like he has no faith in my abilities!"

Calmly Roadbuster reached over and backhanded Hot Rod.

"Ow! What the slag!"

He gave the red and yellow mech a stern look. "Worry and trust aren't the same thing." He leaned back and though Hot Road was giving him a petulant look he knew he was listening. "He'll always worry because there will always be a chance that something will go wrong, that something will happen that no one anticipated. He worries because he loves you, not because he doesn't believe in you. You worry about him, don't you?" The look Roadbuster gave suggested giving the proper response would be least painful.

"Of course!" He said quickly. "But I don't go around needling him about how to do his job! He doesn't give Arcee as hard a time as he does me!"

"That's because Arcee is always deployed with a squad while you're on your own. If you get in over your head there's no one there to help you, no one to watch your back." Roadbuster then rubbed at his helmet as little sheepishly. "You and Arcee get the additional flak of Springer's worry anyway."

Hot Rod canted his head. "What do you mean?"

"Well, he worries about us, of course, but there's only so much he can show before it starts crossing the line of professionalism so all that anxiety he directs at you two. It's… It's hard to explain."

The younger mech nodded but Roadbuster could see he didn't get it. He tried again. "It's like this: imagine you were in Springer's position and you had all these mechs that you liked and enjoyed being around and considered good friends. And then, over time, you start losing them. They start dying off maybe because of a bad order or they made a mistake or someone else just planned better. But they're still your friends and you were still the one that ordered them to the place that got them killed. It would hurt caring after a while, right?"

"Yeah." Hot Rod agreed slowly.

"But you can't help caring because that's just the kind of mech you are. But you still know you'll be the one ordering someone into battle and probably their death. And you know that even if you like the ones under your command, even if you understand them and they you, you can't show any kind of hesitation or favoritism or worry because even if you're friends, you're still their leader. They depend on you for solidarity and unwavering confidence. If you show uncertainty in them or your order because you're afraid for their safety it'll make them question you. Even if they understand your right to worry."

Hot Rod frowned. "But what about you? You've been friends for a long time. He can turn to you, right?"

"Not as much as he needs. I may be his friend, but I'm a Wrecker first and that means I'm under his command. I can see when he needs to vent but there will always be a part that he holds back because of his position." Roadbuster crossed his arms, air cycling through vents like a sigh. "That's why he needs you two so much, you know. It's why we really don't harass you. You do something for Springer the rest of us can't and we…" his vocalizer gave a little click as it shut down on whatever he was about to say. "Well, we appreciate it." He finally finished.

But Hot Rod could see it. All the Wreckers- even Roadbuster –had some degree of hero-worship for Springer. It was obvious in the way a group of powerful, single-minded mechs listened to every order the triplechanger gave them without question. It was obvious in the way they would swarm together and push back whenever he got in serious trouble. It made Hot Rod wonder if any of them resented the fact that two 'bots that rarely ever fought alongside Springer were privy to the trust and intimacy that he couldn't give them.

"Hot Rod!" They looked up to see the mech in question frowning. "I've been looking everywhere for you!"

Hot Rod shot Roadbuster a look. "Still doesn't make this much more bearable." Roadbuster just shrugged back, but there was amusement in his optics.

"What?"

"Forget it." Hot Rod put a hand to Springer's shoulder and guided him back out of the room. "Alright, so what is it this time?"

Roadbuster watched the two of them leave and then leaned back in his seat. Somewhere, far in the back of his processor, Roadbuster was probably a little jealous of Hot Rod and Arcee, for their being able to do what he- who'd known and worked with Springer probably twice as long as them –was unable to. That jealousy would probably be somewhat acknowledged if Roadbuster weren't happy to see all the good the two of them did for his best friend.

* * *

Dragon: Well, as fun and goofy as they are, they are still professional soldiers after all. 

Teh: I have never, ever, written anything so long before. Including word-count. I impress myself o.O

Silveriss: Jazz has to have one of the hardest, dangerous jobs around. He's allowed to be worn out.

Jason: Poor Wreckers. They don't have many playmates D:

Veglma: Er... I'm not familiar with either of those names...

Dragowolf: You know, I don't know if there are any other stories this long. If there are, I'll be shocked.

Tomorrow: I like that- Swiss Army Knife Unit XD But, yes. Got on the wrong side of a Wrecker's rifle and they won't be fun and games at all, huh? (kinda was growing fond of Wavelength, too)

Lodestar: They most certainly can! They infiltrated a Decepticon base, so unless I completely missed a mix-up, no Autobots were hurt in their mission.


	80. Special: In Denial Wreckers

What's Wrong with a Little Destruction?  
The Wreckers

The continuing awesomeness of IDW's top strikeforce!

Note: As I've mentioned to some of you before, this started off as a joke. It was just supposed to be alluded to in In Love Wreckers and then that would be the end of that. Except… they wouldn't let me leave it at that and now it's sort of… spiraled out of my control. And now they keep trying to find ways to sneak in. I apologize in advance for throwing this new obsession of mine at you all.

* * *

Special: In Denial Wreckers 

_"It's not denial. I'm just selective about the reality I accept."  
-Bill Watterson_

Sandstorm was, for once, not with any other Wrecker as he lounged in one of the common areas on the Orbital Hub. He kicked back at a table, legs propped up and was fiddling with something in his hands. His lone status was quickly changed when Broadside plopped down on one side of him. Whirl shoved Sandstorm's legs off the seat and sat down while Topspin, Twin Twist and Scoop moved opposite them. They all looked at him expectantly.

"What?"

"So when are you going to be taking some leave?"

He looked at Whirl blankly. "What?"

"You know." Scoop leaned forward on his elbows. "To spend time with Fireflight."

This time Sandstorm got a little indignant. "What?"

"C'mon- even Springer takes time off for his two. It's not like he can deny you some R&R." Topspin gave the distinct impression of wiggling his optic ridges.

"That's because," Sandstorm said flatly, "he's in a serious relationship with his two."

To his shock the others_laughed_ at him. "Suuure." Topspin said. "And you're going to say you're not crazy about Fireflight." The expression on the triplechanger's faceplate made them laugh harder. "Yeah right! You're not fooling anyone!"

Thoroughly annoyed, Sandstorm leaned back and crossed his arms. "And what gave you the idea that I am?"

The other five exchanged glances before speaking in turn.

"You spend most of your off hours with him."

"You go flying together all the time."

"You put up with Slingshot for him."

"You haggled with Swindle for an early warning alert upgrade."

"You defend him even when he or the other Aerialbots aren't around."

"So?" They asked smugly. "How are you _not_ all over him?"

If Sandstorm didn't have a facemask, he'd be gaping incredulously at them. "You…"

"Everyone knows you two are in deep. Hell- Air Raid's been joking about making you a part time Aerialbot."

"I'm sorry." Sandstorm said icily. "I didn't realize the rumor mill was so hard up it needed to make up stories to keep it going. Fireflight happened to have been a _friend_ of mine before all this you know."

'No he wasn't', they didn't say, wanting to hear what other line Sandstorm was going to try feeding them.

"I'm allowed to be nice to friends, I'm allowed to hang out with friends! Just because I occasionally get Flight some dumb trinket doesn't make him anything more than a _friend_."

Broadside looked at the others. "When was the last time Sandstorm ever gave you guys anything?"

"Asides from the occasional processor lock and the tail-end of a prank, probably never."

"He got a me a new monitor for my quarters. Wait- I paid him to get it and then he 'acquired' it from me."

"He got me in trouble by framing a prank he pulled on me. Does that count?"

Sandstorm protested loudly. "It was things he _needed_!"

"Ah, yes. I know exactly how much he needed a new high-end music player."

The triplechanger glared at his teammates. "You all sound like you need a shot in the mouth component. I could give _that_ to you."

"Just admit it, Sandy." Twin Twist said, grinning widely as Sandstorm growled at the nickname. "You got it bad for him."

"Not that I blame you." The other jumpstarter added. "Mech's pleasing on the optics. Earnest, fun, he's got skills and he makes polyhedral wings look _slick_."

"Primus- I mess around with a 'bot a couple-"

"Dozen."

"_Couple_," he glared at Whirl, "times and suddenly you think I can't live without him."

"Well if you're not serious," Broadside ganked Sandstorm's gadget away, "then what's this?"

"None of your slagging business! Give that back!"

"No? Looks like an image capture to me. A fancy one with a holoprojector at that." Broadside put a hand to Sandstorm's helmet, keeping him pinned to his seat. "And it looks like you've already taken some captures, too."

"They're just images, you bucket-headed dolt!"

"Images for what?" Scoop pressed with glee.

"Of random what-the-slag-ever from out last mission! Primus!"

Heads were shaking. "You couldn't be more hung up if you tried_-"_

"Sandstorm!"

Six heads turned as the entire Aerialbot squad made their way into the common area. Fireflight waved at them, turned to say something to his team before breaking off and heading toward the Wreckers.

"Flight, hey!" Sandstorm didn't take his optics off the red jet, just lifted a foot and shoved Whirl off his seat. "Grab a chair."

"That," Whirl glared from where he was sprawled on his back on the floor, "you're gonna pay for."

"I don't want to interrupt-"

"Don't worry about these guys." Sandstorm gave his teammates a glare that clearly said 'scatter'.

"Yeah," Topspin got up with a bit of a stretch. "We were just killing time. See ya 'round!" He and the others- after stopping to help Whirl back to his feet –moved off to a table elsewhere.

"So?" Twin Twist asked as they settled in their new spot. "What do you think?"

Broadside tilted his head. "If he's being two-faced or just that dense?"

"Yeah."

The Wreckers looked at their teammate, then at the rest of the Aerialbots who- despite being halfway across the room –were keeping a close optic on Sandstorm. Not that anyone could blame them. Sandstorm was known to go through partners like he had nothing better to do and not all of the those relationships ended with just hurt feelings. But this thing with Fireflight was unprecedented both in how long it's lasted and the fact that Sandstorm actually went out of his way to do nice things for him.

They were distracted by Fireflight's delighted laugh. He had activated the imager, expression lit up at the alien beauty of a foreign planetscape displayed before him. Sandstorm leaned in close as he pointed out some bits of interest.

"Nah, he's definitely got it something fierce."

"Oh yeah."

"Hope he doesn't frag this up."

* * *

Dragon: I actually recalled, as I was trying to think of something for this prompt, how one's friends don't always get along with one's significant other(s). I kind of figure the Wreckers respect Springer enough to set aside any problems they may have with either two. 

Jason: Heh. Love is a two-way street or something.

Tomorrow: Eeee, good eyes. I'll change it... sometime. Maybe. When I'm feeling less lazy...

Teh: Sometimes I'll spend half an hour or more just looking for a quote that will fit. Sometimes I'm lucky and find one right off the bat.

Veglma: Hrm... There's not an awful lot of information on either of them. I can try but I can't say how well it'll come out.

Azure: Is... Is it terrible if I said that I kinda want to see how your Aerialbots would view their relationship? Because, you know, I totally didn't move this chapter up for posting a couple days because I wanted to bribe you into doing it or anything (is totally innocent, whut)

VAWitch: Any good relationship is more than just sex, after all!

Dracowolf: Well, thank you! I actually didn't start to really like the three of them together until fairly recently but now it makes too much sense for me to see any of them left out.


	81. Request: Wheeljack and Wreckers II

What's Wrong with a Little Destruction?  
The Wreckers

The continuing awesomeness of IDW's top strikeforce!

Note: Requested by Teh and Star Lin. Post-Wheeljack and Wreckers. Now with 100 percent more Wheeljack! Also quote specifically for Jason.

Also Note: Life has decided to bend me over and wave around something big, spiky and unlubricated around potentially very delicate areas for me (that is, to say, i'm being dog-piled with homework and car and housing issues) so updates will most likely be sporadic until the end of the semester. I'm sorry, I tried to deal with things before it got bad but it didn't work out. Stupid life DX

* * *

Request: Wheeljack and Wreckers II 

_"I'm a masterpiece of self-destruction."  
-Michael Gross_

"Oh my slag, can you_believe_ it?"

"I don't think I've ever seen anything like it in my life!"

"That was just _beautiful_!"

Wheeljack hummed to himself as the Wreckers chattered excitedly around him. "Guess the portable phased array didn't work as well as it should. Of course mirrors work fine but… they're just such a pain to lug around and aren't practical in a battlefield scenario…"

"The color was amazing- you ever seen a color like that in a weapon before?"

"In a weapon? I've never seen that color in an _explosion_!"

"That was just insane! Just… insane awesome!"

"I could rig up a phase-conjugate system." Wheeljack went on muttering. One could see the circuits sparking in his cranial unit. "It'll still be tricky getting the timing right in different weather conditions. I wonder if I could get an AI chip in there that could analyze the amount of dust and moister in the air."

"I want one of these like you wouldn't believe."

"Aw, I just wanna fire it, at least!"

"I wish we _could_."

"Oh!" The engineer snapped his fingers at the sudden inspiration strike. "Maybe I could attach that sonic blaster to it. If I could get it to generate a supersonic wave it would blast the air and create a vacuum that would cut down on the plasma bloom and-"

Ratchet smackd Wheeljack across the back of the helmet. "Shut up! I'm revoking your right to think! Ever!"

The engineer turned with wide, hurt optics. "B-But Ratchet-"

"I don't want to hear it! Now you and the other processor-casualties shut your mouth components! After I'm done reattaching Scoop's arms I'm gonna beat some intelligence in all of you!"

* * *

Teh: I don't know what's been changed in how updates are done on this site, but I don't like it at all. It's making me go through formating three, four times just to make sure it works right DX But, yes! I do love writing these things and I'm flattered you think this is effortless. I wish it were XD 

Jason: What street isn't, really?

Lodestar: Hm, I'm not certain if Sandstorm considers Octane an actual friend. I think he'd be more Smokescreen's buddy. Or business associate, really. To Sandstorm he's probably a good gambling buddy at most.

Azure: Well I certainly have no qualms with PMing you and giving you my take on their relationship for you to use as a starting block if you'd like. Personally I see very little stopping Slingshot from just bitching about it every chance he gets because- c'mon! He's not even a JET half the time!

Dragowolf: Aw, thanks! I try to tackle something new with each drabble which is why I encourage requests. They make me think about things from a different angle and explore characters' thoughts and pasts.

And to everyone that's become attached to Sandstorm and Fireflight: Hehehehe.


	82. Charming Wreckers

What's Wrong with a Little Destruction?  
The Wreckers

The continuing awesomeness of IDW's top strikeforce!

Note: So lots of people wanted to see the aftermath of Elita-1 and Wreckers so here it is. Also this is set after Disorganized Wreckers so they don't have a full roster yet. Just so you know. Also I'm basing Elita's experience due to the fact she was at the funeral in Megatron Origin 2.

* * *

19. Charming Wreckers 

_"Charming people live up to the very edge of their charm, and behave as outrageously as the world lets them."  
-Logan Pearsall Smith_

It was the end of the first battle in what would turn out to be a series of hard battles. Both forces would fight with equal fervor and not gain a lot of ground and in the end probably the most spectacular thing that really occurred on that planet happened right after the first fight. Five of the Wreckers were already in the established forward command center getting patched up and refueled before heading back to the front. They dithered around for a bit, wanting to find out what happened to the spearhead unit that had yet to come in. Two of their own had been part of it (albeit part of the clean-up crew).

When they did finally return optics all over were being reset along with audio receivers. Sandstorm was actually walking next to Elita and chatting her up. Pleasantly. And she was actually laughing at something he said. Non-derisively.

The five of them jumped as Springer slumped heavily in a seat next to them. "Springer!" They turned to him in surprise, too distracted to notice their leader had entered. "You look terrible."

"Thanks for noticing." Topspin went to his side with his medkit, running a diagnostic over the triplechanger. Twin Twist slid his mostly-full container of energon at him as he nodded at their newbie.

"So what got Sandstorm to change his tune?"

Springer took a long pull of energon. "He saw just why Elita is one of the few surviving femmes."

Smirks went up all over. Broadside crossed his arms and asked, "He finally get that she knows what she's doing and is damned scary on the field?"

"Oh yeah." Springer drained the last of the container. Then, as an afterthought, leaned over and grabbed Roadbuster's.

"Hey!"

"Mech's got no shame. I mean- I've known some opportunists, but he's damn quick on the turnaround when he sees someone with some skills." Not that Elita-1 lacked in any battlefield skills before the war started. She was an intel officer with the Security Force and knew as much if not more than the average soldier in weaponry and tactics. She just lacked the practical experience before everything went to Pit.

They watched as Sandstorm and Elita-1 bantered for a bit before Whirl asked, "You don't think she's actually buying that act, is she?"

"No way." Roadbuster shook his head. "She's too smart for that."

"From what I saw, she was more amused than anything else at the sudden switch." Springer told them. He took Topspin prying open panels and tweaking and patching things up as if he weren't even there. "Though Sandy over there is trying to justify his schmoozing as our needing to be on good terms with someone obviously skilled, influential and with a high rank."

Twin Twist rolled his optics. "Right. Because we weren't on good grounds with Elita before he opened his big mouth component."

The medic finally sat back, sealing up a compartment and putting away his kit. "There. That'll hold- wasn't too much major damage. Just some minor dings, nothing that'll hold you back."

"Thanks." Springer settled back comfortably. "Broadside, Whirl, Twin Twist- when we're done here I want the three of you to work on refining Sandstorm's training."

Optics went wide all over and Roadbuster leaned in. "All _three_ of them? Isn't that… excessive?"

Springer waved off the question. "All three. I want the civilian worked out of him." The three mechs in question grinned maliciously. They've been waiting for a chance to lay their hands on the professional cheat for a while now. They tried telling Springer getting a civvy right off the streets was a bad idea.

Topspin, however, chuckled, whistling air out of his vents. "Must've done something to really torque ya off, huh?"

"Fragger used me as a Primus-damned shield so he could butter up Elita! Damn straight I'm torqued!"

They stopped, though, when they realized Sandstorm and Elita were approaching them. She was laughing into one hand, pushing the triplechanger forward with the other. "You," she said breathlessly, "are too much. If it weren't for earlier I might actually believe you're sincere."

"Well, we can't all be perfect." He said with evident humor.

She snickered and shook her head. "Springer," she told him, "you're going to have to keep a close optic on this one. His vocalizer is so slick an electromagnet would slide right off him." She patted Sandstorms shoulder once before moving off, still laughing quietly to herself.

Sandstorm gave his leader a calculating look before asking, "Is it too late for me to request a transfer?"

Springer threw an empty energon container at him.

* * *

Quick note: Before anyone asks, no, Sandstorm was not attempting to seduce Elita, just trying to charm his way into her good graces.

Hellfirescythe: Those two kill me with their fumbling, seriously. That's why I'm glad I have an established relationship to fall back on (pats OT3)

Jason: I aim to please!

Seekerfemme: An officer with any ounce of sense would keep Jack and the Wreckers FAAAAAAAAR away from each other XD

Teh: Ratchet loves taking all the best lines (snickers)

Guess: I'm thinking if Wheeljack doesn't let his ideas out, his head might explode D:

Azure: Absolutely. And I'll bet what scares Ratchet more is the fact he knows everyone will keep doing the stupid things they always do even if no one was there to put them back together again!

Tomorrow: Is this better?

VAWitch: Yikes, I'm glad I could make your day better even a little D:

Khareesa: I'm thinking all the explosions rattled their self-preservation circuits a loooong time ago.

Kyarorin: All in all, I think they all considered it a good day.

Veglma: For some reason... I'm thinking purple. I have no idea why.


	83. Request: Twins and Wreckers IV

What's Wrong with a Little Destruction?  
The Wreckers

The continuing awesomeness of IDW's top strikeforce!

Note: Requested by FloofWolfe. In terms of time frame the twins have worked with the Wreckers on a number of missions already. And while the twins assure me that our definition of incest doesn't collate with theirs and it isn't considered taboo, it still squicks the hell out of me.

WARNING: DUBIOUS CLEANING (that is, badtouching) AHEAD

* * *

Request: Twins and Wreckers IV 

_"People are astute at exploiting weaknesses."  
-Mike Burns_

"So, Sunny, how ya holding up?" Sideswipe smiled impishly. He's been using that damned nickname as if he had a free pass to do so. Though in a way he did by pure virtue of being Sunstreaker's twin and because he had practically melted in one of the Wreckers' heated pools.

"Hmmm." Sunstreaker rumbled, vibrating the alkali. "I'd join up just for the washracks if Prowl'd let us go. 'S nice…"

"That's why it's our pride and joy."

The twins looked up to see Topspin, Twin Twist, Broadside and Whirl swaggering in, stretching out some battle kinks. "A good scrub down sounds like the best thing ever right now."

"Hey, Swipe," Topspin said as he settled on the edge of the alkali pool, "care to help a mech out? I think I got some cables twisted 'round my fans."

"Yeah, sure." Sideswipe climbed out of the pool and unlatched part of the blue and white's chest plate. He still wasn't used to being called 'Swipe' but the other Wreckers claimed Broadside already had monopoly on 'Side' but if they wanted to fight over it, by all means. Sideswipe graciously decided to let the much larger triplechanger hang on to the name.

Topspin laid on his back, arms propped under his head. "Right under the intake. Little deeper- yeah! That's it right there." He purred happily as Sideswipe stroked twisted cables back into their proper position.

"How'd you get these moved around like this?" He asked, leaning down to get a better look at the mess.

"Meh. Hover vehicle components aren't really supposed to take the sort of stress I put on them."

"Yo, Sunstreaker." Twin Twist dropped down next to the yellow warrior, sending a hot wave through the pool. "Enjoying Wrecker hospitality I see."

"If only all of you were as welcome a distraction as this." Came the content reply.

The driller snickered. "If we were welcoming everyone would know our best-kept secret."

Suddenly a large finger poked at the back of Sunstreaker's head, tilting it slightly forward. "Hey!" Sunstreaker growled, mood dampening.

Twin Twist leaned over to see what Broadside spotted. "Looks like you got some carbon buildup under your missile launcher here." He noted absently. "Must've gotten a little trigger-happy to get that much crud on you."

Sunstreaker edged away from the three of them. "It's fine. Don't worry about it."

Whirl was suddenly on his other side, a calculating look in his optic. "A vain mech like you unconcerned with unsightly grime? That can only mean one of three things: You don't like being touched-"

"Unlikely." Topspin chirped from where he was worshiping the care Sideswipe's hands were doing to some mucked up and often forgotten belts and valves. "Asides from snarling about your paintjob you take to tight places packed with other bodies almost as effortlessly as Twist."

"You don't trust us."

"Also unlikely as you've recharged in trenches with us."

"Or you've got sensitivity issues."

Surprisingly (or not) Sunstreaker sunk deeper in to the pool in response. Optic ridges went up in contemplation.

"Explains why he's so hard to corner in the racks." Broadside said offhandedly.

"And it is definitely something to keep secret from the rest of us." Twin Twist added.

"Oh yeah. A weakness like that in a fighter like him?" Whirl canted his head. "Definitely exploitable."

Sunstreaker looked at the Wreckers.

The Wreckers looked right back at him.

Sunstreaker lunged in a half-swim, half-flail for the other side of the pool, Twin Twist and Whirl splashing intently right behind him while Broadside moved along the edge. He scrambled for the edge, pulling himself up and getting the traction to run when something ran into his side, sending the melee fighter into a sprawl. Topspin, despite armor plating being missing, grinned widely from where he perched on top of Sunstreaker's back. Before he could get knocked off Broadside was there to hold down Sunstreaker's shoulders while Whirl and Twin Twist covered his legs.

"Get off me!" He roared- damn near shrieked as hands started poking and prodding at his seams with curiosity.

"Know what we need?" Twin Twist asked conversationally as he ran a finger in a knee joint even as the leg tried to thrash under him. "Brushes. Hey, Swipe-"

A handful of various kinds of brushes was thrust before his face. "Have at."

"Wha- _Sideswipe_!" Sunstreaker screeched, trying to look over his shoulder to glare in betrayal at his brother.

"What?" The red twin sat himself down on the ground and watched with rapt interest. "I wanna see what happens!"

"I swear after I kill these guys I'm coming aftlbrlg-" Sunstreaker's vocalizer fritzed as a stiff-bristle brush went down the back of his neck ring.

"Oh yeah." Topspin said, swirling it around until Sunstreaker was arching up under him. "Those are sensitive seams." For a brief moment the Wreckers just looked down upon their captive. Then they grinned. And then they attacked.

Sunstreaker gasped as hands, brushes and scrappers moved over his body. The sensors in his armor lit up with each pass and he shuddered whenever someone ventured underneath to his more delicate frame. He writhed when Whirl went from side panel to follow the hydraulic lines that slide beneath the golden-yellow sura plating. Broadside worked at each little crease and joint of Sunstreaker's hand until he moaned, rubbing his helmet against the deck. Or maybe it was because Twin Twist was deep in the gaps of his pelvic armor.

The four of them worked with diligence, scrubbing at every inch of armor, wiring, joint, cable, socket- anything and everything. They worked until Sunstreaker whimpered, until he moaned and gasped and cried out. He shook and shuddered, he arched and twisted into their hands, unable to do little else than mewl for more. By the time the four finished with his extremities and were all focused on his back and sides, Sunstreaker threw his head back and yelled, sensations sparking his processor into overload. He collapsed framelessly against the deck, occasionally shuddering as aftershocks pulsed deliciously through his circuits. He let out a shuddering moan as his optics dimmed.

Except Broadside leaned down to rumble in his audio, "You've got more than that in you, I hope. We still got your front to cover."

* * *

As I'm feeling utterly dead tired right now, no reviewer responses asides from thank you for taking the time to drop me a line and I'm glad everyone is still enjoying things. 


	84. Special: Ultimate Frisbee Wreckers

What's Wrong with a Little Destruction?  
The Wreckers

The continuing awesomeness of IDW's top strikeforce!

Note: Set after Cafei's Ultimate Frisbee comic she did some time back. For those of you that need a reminder of it, it's on her dA page at: cafei(dot)deviantart(dot)com/art/WWLD-Ultimate-Frisbee-67527919. Which still makes me giggle. Also I am totally taking this quote out of context.

* * *

Special: Ultimate Frisbee Wreckers 

_"Punishment is lame, but it comes"  
-George Herbert_

Springer looked over the incident report probably for the fifth time, shaking his head. "I've heard of friendly fire, but really Scoop."

The digger hung his head, standing at rest in the triplerchanger's office. "Sorry." He muttered, looking very much like a kicked bumble-puppy. "I didn't mean to hit Spin."

"That I don't doubt." He leaned back, rapping the corner of the datapad against his desk. "How many of these disks did Smokescreen get you?"

Scoop hunkered down between his shoulders even more, not wanting to guess where this line of questions was leading towards. "A dozen. There's eleven left. Why?"

"I'm confiscating them."

"What? Oh no- nononononono, please don't do that Springer!" The green mech gave him a 'sorry, can't help you' shrug. Scoop went down on his knees and _begged_. "Oh _please_! I promise it'll never happen again! I'll be more careful! I won't mess around with them on ship again! Please please please please don't take them away from me!" Scoop gave his best pleading, melt-your-internals look. "Topspin wasn't too upset with it, right? It's just one of those things we'll all look back on and laugh at! Nothing serious, right? Right?"

"After First Aid finishes picking all the shrapnel out of Spin's faceplate and he kicks your aft, he'll probably laugh." Springer spread his hands. "Hey, you put one of our own- our only medic, mind you –in surgery and these disks are uncategorized weaponry. I gotta take them from you, that's just how it is."

"But…" Springer's look made any other protest falter. With a sigh Scoop stood up. "Okay, I'll bring them down." He shuffled his dejected way out of the office.

Half a klick went by before Springer opened up a commlink. "Hey, Roadbuster- guess what I just got!"

"_Scoop's new toys?_"

"Yup! He's bringing them down to my office right now."

"_You know, if you want some nifty gadget from Smokescreen maybe you should be the one saving his aft in battle instead of stealing it from your crew._"

"Shut your smart mouth component. You wanna try 'em out with me?"

"_Be right there._"

* * *

So it seems my readership has a no-longer-so-secret love of Sunstreaker getting molested as that last chapter was the second most reviewed so far XD I'll pass the note along. 

FloofWolf: Haha, trust me- I know all about school ruining lives. I am not looking forward to finals.

Dragon: Nope. To them, weaknesses are for exploiting. Especially if they're sexy weaknesses.

Azure: It's not so much my being overworked that killed me this week as it was my car being in the shop all week. Which meant I've been having to do a forty minute walk to and from classes with my art supplies. I'm so happy I have my car back now ;.;

VAWitch: Nah, his payback is calling Sunstreaker 'Sunny' every chance he gets because he's too big to be taken down without some major damage on Sunstreaker's part. The last chapter was just them having fun XD

Star Lin: Heehee, that's okay- I get it :P

Cafei: All aboard the Sunshine Express Train!

Lily of the Val: Well I'm glad to pleasantly shock you, then!

Vaeru: I'm sure Sideswipe is well aware of it, I imagine he just wanted to see the Wreckers go at it like that XD And Bluestreak was mentioned as leading a detachment in Stormbringer right before the Wreckers were pulled out so he's probably very likely alive in canon. If not... well he is in my personal one!

Hellfirescythe: Nah, Broadside like Sunstreaker too much to crush him like that :P


	85. Request: Repugnus and Wreckers

What's Wrong with a Little Destruction?  
The Wreckers

The continuing awesomeness of IDW's top strikeforce!

Note: Requested by Blazer. The song is sung to The Candy Man, for those of you who don't know.

* * *

Request: Repugnus and Wreckers 

_"What else is there to think about, except my job, my dirty job?"  
-Orson Welles_

"Hey, Roadbuster?"

"_Yeah, Scoop?_"

"He's, uh, he's singing."

"_Disturbing._"

"It is."

Scoop fidgeted and tried to ignore Repugnus beside him. The mercenary was assembling some nasty looking weapon and singing softly to himself just loud enough for the digger to hear. "Who can take a lasersaw, cut the glitch in two, spark off the lower half and give the other to you?"

"Roadbuster?"

"_Yes?_"

"How come I'm the only one assigned to this?" Not that Scoop wasn't fully capable of covering another much on a covert operation, but he was getting a little creeped out. And this mission had illegal written in about five different languages all over it.

"_Plausible deniability._"

Scoop rolled that thought in his processor. "Hey, wait- but I'm right next to him!"

Pause. "_Don't get caught._"

If Scoop could glower audibly he would be.

"_Should it come down to it,_" Roadbuster amended, "_say you were there to check and reinforce fortifications and hope to Primus they buy it. Besides, it's not like Ultra Magnus is going to magically appear to keep an optic of Repugnus._"

As if he knew he was being talked about Repugnus sang louder. "Who can take two ice picks, shove 'em in femme's head, ride her like a cycle until she's dim and dead? The S&M Mech, the S&M Mech, 'cause he mixes it with love and makes the hurt feel good, the hurt feel good!" Scoop squelched the want to shudder.

He'd been forced to stay close to the mercenary for the last several cycles and every klick of it was filled with some story or anecdote or anything else that could be filled with disturbing descriptions of gore and dismemberment. Not for the thirtieth time did Scoop wonder why the Decepticons haven't snatched Repugnus up yet. And, not for the thirtieth time, was he glad they hadn't.

"_Scoop,_" Roadbuster said over the short-range comm, "_Springer wants a timeframe._"

Joy. Hiding a grimace, Scoop turned to the other mech. "Hey, Repugnus? How're you looking on time?"

"Don't worry yourself." He replied with a vaguely unstable kind of glee. "Your little fear-mongerer will be bleeding out of every orifice within a cycle."

That- on top of everything else he'd been subjected to heard –made Scoop's fuel processor churn. "About a cycle." He radioed back to Roadbuster.

The Autobot forces weren't too keen on assassination but the Wreckers have done their fair share of sniping missions. They drew the line at organics, though. They knew where they stood with Decepticons, but in the past mistakes had been made in assassinating other lifeforms that cost them precious territory in their war.

It was part of why these assassinations where there were no other choices were hired out to Repugnus. While the Wreckers considered killing unsuspecting and much weaker organics much like killing an unarmed mech with mortar fire to the back of the head, Repugnus had no such qualms.

Finishing whatever odd contraption he had, Repugnus gave Scoop a broken, hungry grin. "Let's skin us a squishy!" He said happily.

The Wrecker recalled the brief where Springer said they needed a volunteer for this mission and Scoop offered to do it because no one else would. He'd scoffed at them, saying Repugnus couldn't possibly as bad as anything else they've dealt with.

The others gave him a _look_ and said, "You say that because you never worked with him before." Now Scoop wished he kept his big mouth component shut.

"All right," he said unenthusiastically. "Let's do this."

* * *

Jason: What can you say? They just have the best timing for trouble! 

Veglma: If you come up with an idea before me, just let me know.

Seekerfemme: Probably another game the Wreckers will get banned forever.


	86. Request: Ratchet and Wreckers II

What's Wrong with a Little Destruction?  
The Wreckers

The continuing awesomeness of IDW's top strikeforce!

Note: Requested by Ayanna Wildfire. And, uh, someone else who wanted to see this kind of situation. I'm sorry I forgot to write down who it was ;.;

* * *

Request: Ratchet and Wreckers II 

_"Some of you young men think that war is all glamor and glory, but let me tell you, boys, it is all hell!"  
-General William T. Sherman_

"_RATCHET!_" The CMO winced at the volume on his comm. "_We need you here now!_"

His sensors pinpointed the location of the call and the white medic moved through the battlefield toward it. "What's going on?" He asked tersely. He already knew it couldn't be good- whenever the Wreckers called him it never was. And he could guess why they'd be calling for him instead of their own medic.

"_It's Topspin,_" Twin Twist blurted out, panic heavy in his vocalizer, "_he's bleeding out fast!_"

It was dangerous to move too fast in a battlefield- not seeing where you were going, attracting unwanted attention, giving off a high profile –but Ratchet picked up speed anyway. "Clamp down whatever you can get to, I'm on my way!"

Ratchet hated being in battles. He hated moving through them. He especially hated having to ignore other Autobots' wounds even though he had a priority casualty. An explosion threw dirt on his dark marred armor as he scrambled up the last ridge. He slid down the other side, nearly tumbling onto the mechs at the bottom. Twin Twist and Scoop were huddled over the mangled mess Ratchet assumed was Topspin. The other Wreckers were in the prone position near the top of the ridge and lying down fire. All except for Broadside, kneeling over Cliffjumper and keeping the skies cleared best he could.

Ratchet shouldered his way in, scanning the ruined blue and white. "What happened?" He snapped, prioritizing the damage he cataloged and bringing out his medkit. It wouldn't be enough, he knew, especially with all the fighting going on around them.

"Frag missile!" Twin Twist told him, having to shout to be heard. "He was working on Jumper and threw himself over him! Damn near landed on his back!" He clutched at his rifle, optics flaring and mandible clenched tight but he refused to leave.

The medic hissed to himself. "He needs to be evaced!" He shouted back. "There's too much delicate work he needs- too much debris or any damage and it might be irreparable!"

"No can do, doc!" Whirl called back. "I lift him out now and we'll both just get shot down! If we're lucky!"

"We can't just let Spin die!" The driller snapped back.

"Shut up, both of you!" Springer roared at them both. "No one's going to die! Twist, get going on a tunnel!"

"You want me to tunnel back to the rear? Bedrock's too dense, it'll take-"

"A scrape! Just deep enough mortar won't rattle Ratchet while he's down there!"

Twin Twist's expression lit up with understanding. "Right, Chief!" He transformed and moved so debris wouldn't hit Ratchet or the two wounded mechs.

"Broadside- once they get inside, plug the entry best you can! The rest of you get me a five-point defense on a mid-quarter spread!"

"We're on it!" The Wreckers moved up and over the ridge, weapons blazing as they pushed back the Decepticons from the crater. Ratchet kept himself over Topspin's back, taking care of what he could and hoping the field medic could hang on until he could work on the worst of it.

When Twin Twist managed to finish the scrape he helped Ratchet move Topspin and Cliffjumper inside. As Ratchet settled in he realized Twin Twist had set himself down opposite him. "Are you injured?"

"No."

"Then don't you have a war to fight?"

"I'm not leaving Spin." Twin Twist matched Ratchet's unamused glare with his own steady gaze. "If you need any parts, take 'em from me." Ratchet opened his mouth to snap but Twin Twist beat him to the punch. "Please, Ratchet. He's my best friend."

He was still ready to argue the point but the thought that fighting with the driller was taking the time he could be using to save Topspin instead. "Fine. Don't get in my way."

"Yessir!"

Broadside, seeing the exchange had finished, put as much of his bulk in the opening as he could, practically sealing it tight. Which included blocking light and Ratchet swore to himself. He should've taken Wheeljack's advice and got his image enhancer upgraded.

"Twin Twist, do you have a light?"

"Light? Why do you- oh. Hang on." Of course Twin Twist wouldn't have need for a light. Asides from his being built to see through most low-level light conditions the Wreckers were equipped with all sorts of peripherals that let them get around the darkness. A dim light washed over them and Ratchet saw everything in a shade of red. Figures. Leave it to Wreckers to only be equipped with the shortest wave light. Better than nothing.

"Alright, hold it there." He worked quietly, quickly, occasionally muttering to himself and redirecting the angle of light. Ratchet could still feel the vibrations of the battle all around him but he actually felt somewhat secure despite being in a potential cave-in zone with a 'bot's life on the line. After a while he felt the subtle buzz of transmissions and his optics flickered up.

Twin Twist's focus was solely on his buddy but Ratchet could tell he was talking to Broadside. He was leaned up against a wall but he had one hand out, gripping the edge of Broadside's armor. The other hand was tight around one of Topspin's. Ratchet didn't say anything until he had finished soldering the last lines together.

Satisfied his patient was in stable condition, he reached over and laid his hand over the two jumpstarters'. "He's going to pull through fine, Twin Twist."

He turned his hand over to give Ratchet's a squeeze. "Thank you."

* * *

Jason: It's right up there with 'guilty by association', I think. 

Teh: Hey, when one needs to dance that ambiguous, you need someone that knows the steps.

Lodestar: Just some random being on some random planet, probably a Decepticon sympathizer that uses oratory fear to sway their kind to submitting.

Kyarorin: Oh yeah. Poor Scoop.

Azure: I wish I could take credit for it, really. I actually first heard it in a formation run while I was in the Corps and I looked it up later on and it seems to actually be a rugby/drinking song. Them kooky Europeans.

Seekerfemme: Hahaha, I'll bet Repugnus traumatized him XD

Veglma: I'm actually a little surprised at how many people were happy to see him in that chapter, though that's mainly due to the fact that I barely remember him in the Marvel comics.

Sugarsniper: I don't know how well a bee fits in a foxglove, but you're absolutely right about the tune!

Tomorrow: Heehee, not so much the fact that he sings as it is WHAT he sings, no?

Casus: Review often or not, I still appreciate you taking the time to let me know you're liking them. I've... really grown attached to Sandstorm and Fireflight. Even though I tried so very hard not to...


	87. Request: Bluestreak and Wreckers

What's Wrong with a Little Destruction?  
The Wreckers

The continuing awesomeness of IDW's top strikeforce!

Note: Requested by Dragowolf, Floofwolf and Vaeru. This takes place not too long after Bluestreak's city is destroyed by the Decepticons where, in my personal canon, the Wreckers were actually the ones that found him. Also in my personal canon Bluestreak looks up to Prowl as both a hero-mentor and a kind of father figure. Because I think it's friggin' adorable.

* * *

Request: Bluestreak and Wreckers 

_"I will prepare and some day my chance will come."  
-Abraham Lincoln_

Whirl cursed internally and told himself under no circumstances was he allowed to shift- no matter how painful Bluestreak's chevron was poking into the crease of his under arm. Even though the rubble was thick and scrambled sensor readings just enough to make a presence look more like a glitch, he wasn't taking any chances. His scanners said Decepticons could probably be right above them and he told Bluestreak 'don't talk, don't transmit, don't even move' right before he covered the young mech's head with his own body.

He hadn't been keeping track of how long they'd been there like that- had the unfounded fear that if he checked the Decepticons could feel the pulse and then bring down the ceiling on them.

It's just the enclosure, he told himself, it's making you irrational. He felt the stiffness in Bluestreak start turning into a building panicked restlessness. Don't freak out. If Whirl meant it for Bluestreak, himself or both was up in the air. Don't freak out, don't freak out, don't freak out.

Eventually the glitches passed and Whirl let the air cycle out of him. "Thank Primus." He muttered. "Alright, Bluestreak," he said, moving off of him, "I'm going back and letting the others know where you are and then we'll get you out."

The gunner nodded and Whirl began wriggling his way backwards. That was the problem with being slender, he thought to himself. He was the thinnest of the Wreckers and the only one able to slide into such a small space to see if Bluestreak had gotten himself trapped when the wall came down. Even for him it was a tight squeeze and he had to crawl awkwardly, half-twisted sideways to keep his cockpit from catching on anything.

As the helo neared the opening of the psuedo-tunnel he felt hands on his legs and heard familiar voices as they half pulled, half guided him free. Thoroughly dinged, scratched and dirty, Whirl sat up, flexed his limps in the freedom of space and said, "Blue's caught good. He's not looking too happy, either."

Springer nodded. "Scoop, Twist- it's your lead."

They nodded, Twin Twist started to direct preliminary clearing- designating an area to set the cleared rubble out of the way and forming up a chain. Scoop inspected the debris, calculating the best way to clear it without crushing Bluestreak.

It was actually fairly quick work with all eight of them there. The other Autobots they had been with were either helping the wounded back to base or looking for other missing personnel. They could hear Bluestreak chatting uneasily to himself and Springer asked, "Hey, Blue! How're you holding up?"

"Fine!" He squeaked in a way that said he was definitely _not_ fine. Especially considering how not long ago it was that they dug him out of the scorched ruins of his home. He prattled on about anything in his processor from how busy the battle had been compared to the ride in to how glad he was it was the wall that was in pieces and not him. He said everything he could think of but didn't say how glad he was they had looked for him or asking about the 'bots he'd seen hurt or killed, or the fact that he'd frozen up in the middle of battle.

Still just a kid, Springer thought irritably. He knew there were mechs around Bluestreak's age- some younger –that were seasoned fighters but Bluestreak wasn't ready for this kind of thing. Especially after the destruction of all he knew, especially when he still couldn't get a full recharge because of memories.

"What the hell was Prowl thinking?" He growled to himself, shifting debris off one of Bluestreak's wings. "Sending you out here so soon. Always thinking who's slagging useful, doesn't give a glitch about if they can handle the stress."

"Prowl didn't want me to come out here."

The admission was soft, but it made the work halt. Bluestreak didn't look at any of them, optics shadowed by his chevron. "He said I wasn't ready yet, but I wanted to come. I thought I could do this- I begged him to let me go."

A look from Springer had the other Wreckers going back to clearing the rubble. "Then why didn't you listen?" His tone was more stern than gentle.

"Because," the kid sounded so dejected Springer might've felt a little guilty if it weren't all so stupid. "I wanted to be useful. I wanted to not be a burden." He wanted, Springer realized, to make Prowl proud of him. "I thought I was ready."

The triplechanger scooted closer to Bluestreak's head and the younger mech looked up at him. "Saving you was not a waste, Blue. All the time and effort and care it took to build you back up and make you capable wasn't done so your life could be thrown away before you can figure out your worth. _That_ would be a waste."

"I'm sorry." The gunner murmured.

"For what? You made a mistake, you'll survive and you'll learn. So Prowl was right about your not being ready- even he's allowed to be right sometimes." He put a hand against Bluestreak's helmet. "What matters is you're still alive. You need to take it easy and get used to the idea of battle. Some mechs can get tossed into the thick of it from the start and thrive- most can't. That doesn't mean there's something wrong with you."

Bluestreak nodded. And then blurted out, "Prowl's gonna be mad at me."

Springer smirked. "Prowl's always gotta find something to get his cables twisted up about. But I'll tell you what- you promise to take things slow and I'll go talk to him. And if I can't cool him off I can at least get him so aggravated that by the time he sees you he'll only have the energy to be grateful you're okay."

A nervous little giggle escaped Bluestreak's vocalizer. "Okay, I promise. Thanks, Springer."

"No problem, kid." The triplechanger rubbed good naturally at Bluestreak's helmet before he scooted back downward toward his legs to help with the clearing.

* * *

Dragon: Aw, but it's all good in the end! Spin will be back to give Ratchet a headache with his medical shortcuts in no time! 

Seekerfemme: Unfortunately that's what they do, the poor guys. Built to go out and put themselves in the line of fire.

Tecuma: Really? Hahaha, that's awesome! I don't think Topspin has to recover for Ratchet to give him holy hell. I think he's one of those mechs that makes Ratchet for 'RAR' just being there.

Azzi: I'm very flattered and happy to help out a fellow armed service member!

Tomorrow: This is very true. It actually kind of makes you wonder how much music is an influence to them as we know it's a big part of our own culture.

Ronin: I'm not going to hold it against anyone about not reviewing because their busy- I know how much being busy sucks D:

Teh: I tell you, field medics are some of the bravest people in the world- going out in the middle of battle and saving lives. That takes guts.

Veglma: I like Spin too much to kill him off like that ;.;

Jason: Yeah, at least he could see.


	88. Request: Going Home Wreckers

What's Wrong with a Little Destruction?  
The Wreckers

The continuing awesomeness of IDW's top strikeforce!

Note: Requested by Teh. I still don't have a fully clear idea on 'family' in the TF-verse, but I prefer the idea that they're created for a specific purpose over one or two 'parental' units deciding to have 'offspring' as that seems far too biological to me. Not knocking those that have done it- some pull it off very well. I just don't feel it myself. So here's a little dip into a potential 'family' background.

* * *

Request: Going Home Wreckers 

_"No matter under what circumstances you leave it, home does not cease to be home. No matter how you lived there- well or poorly."  
-Joseph Brodsky_

They knew something wasn't quite right when they got the order. Broadside was naturally quiet and solitary but over the decades the other Wreckers could read his silence and this was not among his usual sorts. When they reached the asteroid he was devastating on the battlefield, flying with a passion and harshly-leashed control none of them had ever seen Broadside display and Springer had to pull him back from overextending on the line several times. But that near-berserker shook the more impressionable Decepticons and, admittedly, neither Springer nor Roadbuster were fool enough not to use it to their advantage.

The battle ended more out of a lack of useful resources than any side being victorious. The Decepticons stripped what they could from the place and then fled, leaving a black rock for the Autobots to shift through. Broadside shifted with them and the Wreckers followed quietly. He'd climb barren hills and look around as if he were trying to find something, making his way through the dark husks of buildings. It was one of the last neutral outposts in the sector, manufacturers that supplied to both sides in exchange for being left alone. A stupid move on the Decepticons' part if anyone asked the Wreckers.

Finally Broadside came to a stop at the crest of a huge crater, architecture and manufacturing parts strewn everywhere. Quietly he said, "This was where I was created." The others said nothing and patiently waited for him to continue. "It was a factory designed to build mechs to work as cargo shuttles. I was built in the marine division just over there." He pointed to where the map laid over in his processor told him the building would be. "We were too big and expensive to build in bulk so it was just me and two others at the time. I never really thought of them as brothers, even then I tended to keep to myself." He looked around again, trying to find the world he grew up in among the one he now stood upon. "Marine ships were starting to drop in demand and jets were needed so I volunteered for the triplechanger program because I hate feeling useless. They were worried because I had so much mass to shift and I had to be both air and seaworthy. But I pulled through.

"I learned to fly with the other shuttles over there." He pointed. "There was a landing strip where I took my first flight. My first cruise was at the docks over the ridge." There were many transformers that didn't talk much about their lives before the war and no one ever asked. Being designed for a purpose, to perform a task, homesickness wasn't exactly common so longs as they could do their duty. But no one could ever really forget their place of firsts, the place that held so many memories. If he looked at the civilian casualty list, Broadside could probably recognize some of the names and that thought made him feel sick.

Springer stepped up beside him, put a hand to Broadside's wrist and squeezed it. "I'm sorry."

Broadside nodded sharply, air wheezing in the tight clutch of his internals. Springer didn't have to say it, didn't have to say or do anything but he did it anyway. And that was why Broadside would always follow him.

* * *

Khareesa: Ha, I don't think I'll ever actually get bored with reviews, but I'm not going to force anyone to reply to every single chapter! I'm glad for reviews at all, really. 

Kyarorin: Unfortunately Springer has very much the idea that only those that know what they're doing should be allowed to fight, otherwise they'd most likely end up dead. And Bluestreak's to sweet a kid to die D:

Veglma: I don't know why I see Prowl and Blue as almost like brothers, I just do.

Jason: Having the Wreckers for big brothers would only be the coolest thing ever!

Teh: I'm both XD

Dragowolf: I full-heartedly agree. Bluestreak is a lot braver than people give him credit for.

Silveriss: And if Screen can't get you tickets, Blaster would probably record the entire exchange.

Seekerfemme: He is very much like a puppy. You just want to cuddle the little guy.

ChaoticThought: Thank you for reviewing at all, I'm glad you're enjoying the series!

Okami: Same here, the two of them have a unique relationship I wish I could see more of.

Tomorrow: ...wow, how'd I miss THOSE sentences? Oops.

Cafei: I told you I was going to do it! I'm sorry it took so long, though D:

Azzi: Glad to hit on your favorites!

TammyCat: Wow, that's a lot of reading! I'm glad you've been enjoying them! And believe me, even if no one else liked it I know at least two people that would beat me if I didn't do more SandstormxFireflight stuff XD


	89. Special: Fireflight and Sandstorm

What's Wrong with a Little Destruction?  
The Wreckers

The continuing awesomeness of IDW's top strikeforce!

Note: Takes place after In Love Wreckers. It wouldn't leave me alone D:

* * *

Special: Fireflight and Sandstorm 

_"No one told me/I was going to find you/Unexpected/what you did to my heart"  
-John Cusack_

When Sandstorm came online he was on alert. Not a full or even high alert, he was just aware of everything all at once. He was aware, for one, that he was not in his own quarters or even those assigned to the Wreckers for this mission. He was also aware that he lay on his front in a berth made for one with someone else scrunched up half on top of him. And he was very much aware that someone was querying him to establish a tight link and- according to his readouts –has been trying to for…

Sandstorm's optics flared on in a flash of red. _He'd been recharging for five cycles_? He's _never_ recharged for that long even before he became a Wrecker! He answered the comm-request even as he pulled up a diagnostic to see if there were any ailments or wounds that knocked him out longer than he intended.

"_Primus- it's about time!_"

"RB," he responded, trying to hide his confusion as all his systems were coming back green, "what's the word?" Topspin's quick patch took care of all the heavy damage and his automated repair system cleared up everything else with barely any noteworthy strain. So how did he recharge for so long?

There was a long pause on the other end. "_Sandstorm, do you realize what time it is?_"

"Yes?"

"_Do you realize what you were supposed to do _two cycles_ ago?_"

Sandstorm winced to himself. "Go out on recon?"

"_Affirmative._" All though his voice was low and carefully even, Sandstorm could hear exactly how livid Roadbuster was. "_Where. Are. You._"

The triplechanger hesitated. "In Fireflight's quarters." He caught the first couple swears before Roadbuster muted his end of the link.

"_You have an excuse as to why you were missing and not answering any comms, I take it?_"

For a brief moment Sandstorm considered lying- had no problems doing so on the fly. But Roadbuster was sharp enough to see through most of them and Sandstorm doubted it would do much good anyway. "I really don't." He admitted.

"_Well because of this Springer had to coordinate Twin Twist and Scoop on fortifications with inadequate information. He's already torqued all to hell so get down here_ now_, Sandstorm._"

"Understood." He said meekly. "I'm on my way."

The line clicked dead and then Sandstorm realized he had another problem: that of trying to get out from under Fireflight without disturbing him. He twisted best he could to take in their positions and calculate the best way to move and… felt reluctant to do so. Fireflight's weight was comfortable and warm, the soft hum of his engine the barest of vibrations at Sandstorm's side and it was kind of nice having the angled wing pressing low on his back.

Primus, he thought to himself, I'm about to get myself gutted and quartered in the most painful ways imaginable and I'm worried about waking up Flight.

Even with that admonishment in his processor, Sandstorm still tried as carefully as he could to wriggle his way free. He managed to get his upper body out from under Fireflight with little incident (with the exception of when the Aerialbot tightening his arm or snuggling closer to Sandstorm's wing) but the main trouble came from below. That is, the two of them had managed to turn their legs and tails into a mess of tangled parts. By the time he managed to free one leg, he realized he was being watched.

Fireflight's blue optics held him with a soft kind of intensity. "Hi." He said quietly.

"Um." Sandstorm replied. "Hey."

"Have to go?"

"Yeah. Late, actually." He turned his attention back to their entwined legs, finding it a little more difficult to focus with the Aerialbot looking at him like that. Fireflight shifted next to him and then sat up. They didn't say much as they pulled themselves apart and the jet continued to watch quietly, thoughtfully as Sandstorm stood from the berth and stretched a bit.

"Um… Sandstorm?" Fireflight drew his knees up to his chest, looking at the Wrecker from under his helmet. "Afterwards are you… will you… come back? I mean, I know you still have a mission and I'm not saying you won't come back at all- what I means is- I, uh…" He paused, faceplates pinched with concentration as he tried to word his thoughts. "Will you come back? Here, I mean. T-To…"

Even though Fireflight didn't finish the sentence, Sandstorm knew what he was trying to say and that made his processor halt. There was no one more aware of his reputation than Sandstorm and he knew just as well as anyone that the Aerialbots had a fierce protective streak few others could hope to match. He already accepted Slingshot was going to be giving him all sorts of slag about this quick fling as it was. But with the potential of Sandstorm breaking the spark of their most impressionable member was asking to bring a world of hurt upon himself.

And even without that Sandstorm was still hesitant to say yes. Because asides from the gratification, he didn't much care for his partners and tended to end relationships on a sour note just because he couldn't be bothered to try being nice about it. He stirred up a lot of animosity among other Autobots (and the occasional neutral) doing things like that but it didn't make much of a difference to him.

Fireflight, though, was nice. And sweet and a little naïve on the workings of the side of the universe that Sandstorm was so intimately aware of and had lived most of his life by. They had chatted most of the night and Sandstorm had found himself coming to actually really like the red jet and the idea that he could be putting himself on the path of ultimately devastating the mech made him feel a little queasy.

But… it's not like Fireflight wouldn't know about his habits, right? Everyone did. And even if he didn't, Sandstorm could bet one- if not all –of the other Aerialbots did and would tell him it would be a bad idea to get involved in that.

"You do know who you're asking, right?" He asked, more than a little cautiously.

Fireflight nodded. "Yeah." He held Sandstorm's gaze with a hopeful determination.

Sandstorm steeled himself, not really understanding why this seemed like such a big deal. "Alright," he said at last, "if that's what you really want. I'll come back to you."

* * *

Dragon: Yeah, I think the manufacturing idea takes a lot of emotion out of it, but it just seems more logical to me. 

Jason: In my head they tell me Cybertronians actually have several different words for family which describe the different levels of bonding. Family that they're created with, close comrades that are like family, etc.

Tomorrow: The childhood and growing up thing is kinda difficult to move one's brain around because there was none of that shown in the actual series. But it's also a fun challenge, really.

Silveriss: Then the drabble did the job, thanks.

Teh: You'd be surprised. I was friends with one Marine who was a hard-ass with as big a sadistic streak as me but she's also one of the most devote mothers I've ever met.


	90. Request: Prowl and Springer

What's Wrong with a Little Destruction?  
The Wreckers

The continuing awesomeness of IDW's top strikeforce!

Note: Requested by Kyarorin and Silveriss. And a special added scene requested by Veglma, Kyarorin and Dragowolf. Takes place after Bluestreak and Wreckers. Happy Turkey Day!

* * *

Request: Prowl and Springer 

_"The greatest mistake you can make in life is to be continually fearing you will make one."  
-Elbert Hubbard_

Prowl looked up at the sound of the door to his office opening, took one look at Springer, saved the data he was compiling and set it aside. He gave the triplechanger a dry look. "And which of my decisions do you wish to complain about this time?"

Springer shrugged in return. Unlike most every time he's been in this office he actually took the time to wander around as if Prowl had actually done something to the place. The office was just as spartan and utilitarian as it was when it was assigned to him. "What, I can't just stop by and see how you've been?"

"I will assume that question is rhetorical."

"You always have to turn everything I do into some sort of subversive act, don't you?" But Springer walked to Prowl's desk and just stood there. He rarely sat in Prowl's office- not to feel more powerful than the tactician but to remind him that he had no actual authority over the Wrecker. "Bluestreak is fine."

Doorwings gave off just the slightest twitch and Prowl's expression tightened minutely. "I see."

He watched the black and white carefully having dealt with Prowl enough to read his little tells. "Had part of a bulkhead come down on him, but he's okay. Topspin already checked him over and Ratchet's getting a second opinion right now."

He got a nod in reply and for a moment Springer thought Prowl was going to reach for the datapads again and leave the conversation at that. Instead, very suddenly, he let himself sag and Springer saw just how stressed and wearied he was. "Was he hurt?"

"Just his ego, really."

"What did he do?" Prowl's hands slid off the desk and his expression had so little of his usual distance the Wrecker would almost dare to say there was outright emotion on it. "The truth, Springer. Please."

He pressed his mouth into a thin line and moved to sit on the edge of the desk. "Don't really know." He admitted. "I saw him freeze up in the fight so I had some 'bots move him out of the line of fire. I was at the front the rest of the time, don't even know when or how the wall fell." He looked at Prowl for a long, silent moment and though Prowl held his gaze it was only barely. "Why did you let him go?"

"Because he wanted to." Came the simple, quiet reply.

"When has that been a good enough reason for you?"

Surprisingly Prowl stood up from his seat and took a couple paces along the wall. His hands the clasped behind his back and flexing in and out of loose fists. "He has agreed to join the Autobot ranks and has been appointed as a gunner. He's a soldier and as such he must be utilized in battle. He has trained and shown proficiency in firearms and believed himself ready to fight."

"You wanna say that again?" Springer asked dryly. "This time like I'm not an idiot?"

Prowl stopped but kept his back to Springer. "I know what he thinks of me." He said lowly. "I know what he thinks of himself. He wanted to go because he knows that's what he's supposed to do. He wanted to go because he was too afraid not to." Springer's optics narrowed but he kept silent as Prowl's hands continued to flex, flex, flex behind his back. "He wanted to go."

"He could've been killed."

"Everyone could be killed in battle."

The green mech crossed his arms. "Among our many sources of contention one of them is our approach to protecting lives. I worry about the individual, you're concerned with the greater majority. So tell me this, Prowl, how does sending in a half-trained, half-traumatized mech fulfill the needs of the many?" The silence stretched on. "Why," he annunciated each word carefully, "did you let him go out there?"

Finally Prowl turned around and Springer could read guilt in his optics. "He wanted the chance, Springer. He _begged_ me to give him that chance. Would you be have been able to tell him no?" He asked, tilting his head deliberately to look at Springer from under the edge of his chevron. "When he's standing there, looking at you with all the determination and hope he can muster, wanting so badly to prove himself- to me? To all those that were taken from him? To reassure himself that he isn't just a burden?"

The triplechanger hesitated because he honestly couldn't say that he wouldn't have done the same but Prowl turned away again, doorwings listing slightly. "I knew he wasn't ready." He said.

"I know."

"I knew he'd just get hurt."

"I know."

The tactician didn't say anything then but from where he was Springer could see the tightly clenched white fists, the harsh line of Prowl's frown and he couldn't think of anything to say either.

Finally he opened his mouth and quietly, a little lamely, said, "You'll think of something. You always do."

* * *

Every free moment he had since Ratchet gave him a clean bill of health (it really wasn't much damage done to him, surprising for being flattened by an entire bulkhead) Bluestreak spent it at the range. He was small and he was weak and even though he knew he was fast he also knew he was no good in any close-quarters fighting. He didn't much like guns and rifles and missile launchers but it was the only way he felt he could be of use. He didn't think he was smart enough to do any of the clerical or tactical stuff and other 'bots were telling him he was actually pretty good with firearms. 

But pretty good didn't help him earlier. He was just as useful then as he was when the Decepticons destroyed his home. The only thing that went his way, he decided, was his ability to survive and who did that help except for himself?

"Bluestreak."

His head snapped up and his doorwings flared in surprise, spinning around to find Prowl striding calmly up to him. "Oh, uh, Prowl!" Bluestreak fidgeted with his hands. This was actually the first time he'd seen the tactician since he'd left on the mission. He figured it was because Prowl was busy and not because Bluestreak had been trying to avoid him. Because that would be rude and a little mean, especially since Prowl looked out for him and was probably worried about what had happened. "Um, I was just going to the, uh, the range. Practice some more. Because practicing is good, right? It's how you get better and everything and I've still got a long way to go before I'm actually any good at this battle stuff-"

"Bluestreak." He interrupted, firm but not stern. "I'm having you reassigned."

The gunner's doorwings fell and his optics went pale. "Re-reassigned? Where? Am I leaving? I can do better- really! I just- please don't send me away! I want to help, I really do, I just need to train more and-"

"You're not being sent away."

"I'm… not?"

The edges of Prowl's lips softened. "No, Bluestreak." He stepped in close enough that Bluestreak had to incline his head back slightly to hold his optics, their height just barely staggered. "You are familiar with the twins?"

Vigorously Bluestreak nodded his head. "Oh yeah! _Everyone_ knows them! Sideswipe is okay but Sunstreaker is kinda scary. Unless they're in battle and then they're both scary. I mean- _really_ scary!"

"I'm assigning you to be their support."

Bluestreak's optics went huge at that. "M-Me? But I don't know anything about melee fighting! I'm no good at it! Besides, I don't think they really like me much!"

"Liking each other has little to do with being able to work together. It's about being able to accept the help. And while you may not be able to fight well, they do. The unfortunate part is they tend to get too focused with the task at hand," Bluestreak didn't know if that was some subtle joke but he grinned as a nervous tick, "and can leave themselves open to outside attack. That is why you will be their support."

"But I can't fight." He pleaded. "I'm too weak-"

Prowl overrode him with a soothing tone. "You will not be expected to fight hand-to-hand. You will be there to act as their long-range support. When they fight, you will cover their rear, hold off enemy air support and prevent others from getting in too close. They, in turn, will protect you."

For once, for a good while, Bluestreak couldn't bring himself to say anything. Prowl wasn't upset that he did so terribly in battle, Prowl wasn't going to send him away and Prowl was actually going to let him fight again. He ducked his head, vocalizer tight and internals clenching and his knees shaking a little with the relief that even if he wasn't any good, he was still good enough to be cared about.

"Thank you." He whispered, because he didn't know what else to say. His doorwings came back up at the feel of Prowl's hand placed between them, guiding him away from the firing range.

"If you're going to work with them, you'll need to train with them as well. I'll adjust your schedule to fit accordingly." He said in that same low, smooth voice that told Bluestreak it'll be okay. Even if he hurt, even if he wavered Prowl would be there and he'd make it okay.

* * *

Silveriss: Vacations are always nice. Lucky. 

Jason: Yeah, he's stupid like that.

ChaoticThought: I'm actually really surprised so many people have become attached to those two. It really amuses me.

Azure: Well... you already know what's going on :P

Dragowolf: Poor Broadside. First he loses the place he was created, then he loses Cybertron. Guess his only home now is with the Wreckers.

TammyCat: I certainly try to throw in some twists. Hope they're good twists!

Veglma: Oh yeah. You do not want to piss off a guy Broadside's size. That's just not good for anyone.


	91. Request: Aerialbots and Wreckers

What's Wrong with a Little Destruction?  
The Wreckers

The continuing awesomeness of IDW's top strikeforce!

Note: Requested by Azure. Takes place soon after Fireflight and Sandstorm. It, uh, wasn't supposed to actually come out this way but I couldn't stop it. So… enjoy?

Also Note: Not entirely required, but there is a slight connection to Azure's (under the penname Thing with No Talent) 28 Aerialbots because, well, I love those flyboys.

* * *

Request: Aerialbots and Wreckers

_"Testosterone has been accorded vast powers, as the libido hormone, the aggression hormone, the dominance hormone."  
-Natalie Angier_

Projected intel stated that there was most likely going to be a stagnant period while both sides regrouped after the last battle. Not so much from heavy casualties as it was opposing forces recognizing when the other had a strong enough defense that a direct attack would be futile and suicidal. Which was why Sandstorm was set to go reconning at first shift and why, when he missed the optimal timeframe for it, Springer gave him a nice, lengthy reaming. It took a lot to get Springer rightly furious, especially to the point where he was yelling. Mostly, when he needed things done quick and _now_, his volume didn't get much louder, it was just forceful. It's been a long time since Sandstorm last had Springer yelling at him and the orange triplechanger was thoroughly reminded that he never actually liked those times. Not because he couldn't take the yelling but because every point Springer made was absolutely right and he had this nasty little ability to say all the right words to make someone feel guilty as all hell.

Since his scout had been missing Springer had to take the detachment's special ops mech and send him on a quick recon. Because of that Sandstorm was given all the duties that mech couldn't do (because he was doing Sandstorm's job) on top of being put on double shift. So he'd done ground patrol with Roadbuster, returned to base where he was then tasked with inventory and supply orders and then right back out to do air patrol with Broadside.

Highly annoyed with the situation (and himself for causing it) Sandstorm fumed silently the entire way and Broadside flew quietly beside him. He didn't ask any questions (most he got the answer to just by looking at the smaller 'bot) and flew just under nominal patrol speeds to let Sandstorm conserve his somewhat taxed energy reserves.

Sandstorm just couldn't figure out how it even happened to begin with. Unless there was a debilitating injury his usual recharge was three cycles max so he never felt the need to set his internal alarm for anything over that time. Even when he had less recharge time scheduled he tended to online before his alarm came on anyway. So he flew and he stewed and he thought, paying just the minimal amount of attention to his scanners. He saw the blips coming up fast on his scanners, but they were Autobot signatures so he barely gave them a thought.

Until he realized the two signatures were Slingshot and Skydive. He knew it was going to happen but slag if he had the energy to deal with it right now. Broadside- thank Primus for wonderful, thoughtful (protective) Broadside –flew up until he was a veritable gray wall between Sandstorm and the two Aerialbots.

"Do you need our assistance?" He asked in much the way that said if the answer is negative, feel free to leave. And by feel free, he meant without getting a boot to the aft.

But then it was also Slingshot he was saying this to. "I wanna say something to that glitch-processor of a teammate of yours!"

"Slingshot," Skydive said in the tone of voice that went 'I knew this was going to happen', "we're here to talk to him, not start a fight."

"We're on patrol. This discussion can wait until he's off shift."

"He's right." Skydive added, though it was more like 'I told you so'. "We still have to return from our own patrol."

"We already checked in and command knows everything's clear." Slingshot angled closer to Broadside. "I'll go the whole patrol with these guys if I gotta, but I'm not leaving until we get an answer."

Knowing there'd be no other way to shake the small jet, Sandstorm elevated so he was a level above the other Wrecker. "Alright," he said in resignation, "what do you want to say?"

Slingshot moved right up next to him. "Stay the hell away from our wingmate." He said flat out.

"Slingshot!" Skydive half-snapped. "That's not what we discussed! We want to know what your intentions are regarding Fireflight."

"Slag that! We know all about your use-and-abuse ways! You come near Flight again and I'll stuff your thrusters down your faceplate!"

Sandstorm's patience (not exactly a lengthy thing on a good day) was chaffing something fierce under Slingshot's harsh commentary. "Surprisingly," he said, just short of a growl, "I wasn't planning on doing more than a one-time fling."

"Good." Slingshot grumbled back, descending slightly and beginning a slow loop back. "Keep it that way."

"He wants to see me again."

"WHAT?" Slingshot came back up so fast he nearly clipped Skydive's wing.

Feeling more than a little smug at the reaction, Sandstorm said again, "_He_ wants to see _me_ again. Maybe you should be asking Fireflight what _his_ intentions are."

"Don't even try to pin this on Flight! You think we're stupid or something? You think just because we're not some 'all-powerful' triplechanger with more firepower than working synapse we'd actually believe _you_? The mech that makes it his goal in existence to ruin every single 'bot he ever comes in contact with? Give me a slagging break! We know you- _everyone_ knows what you are! You'll say and do anything to get what you want and once you get bored you'll just throw him away broken and bitter! If you think I'm gonna let you utterly ruin our wingmate you've got corrupt circuits in that burnt-out cranial unit of yours!"

"Sandstorm." Broadside said over a tight link, voice rumbling through Sandstorm's chassis even as he tried not to bristle at the big mouth. "Let it go."

"_Let it go_?" He hissed back, growing more and more livid with each word coming out of Slingshot's vocalizer. "You want me to let _this_ slag go? Where the fragging Pit does this little pipsqueak, slag-aft glitch get off?"

"Just let him rant. He won't try anything and if he does, I'm here. But if you provoke him into a fight, I'm just going to hang back and let him dish it out."

"Nice to know you got my back, Side." Sandstorm practically spat.

"You start something you could otherwise get by without, that's on you." Broadside deflected the wind just enough to slow down half a length. Sandstorm growled but stayed silent. But Slingshot picked up on the irate vibrations and kept laying it on, thicker and thicker as he went.

They could feel the slight buzz of transmissions and knew Skydive was trying desperately to get Slingshot to stop but the white jet was ignoring him, on too much of a roll to even both responding to his wingmate. There were a lot of things Sandstorm wanted to say. A damn lot. Except if he tried he'd probably end up saying something else totally different. And directly at Slingshot. And then it would be just not pretty after that so he kept his vocalizer quiet and tried to let it roll off him best he could.

Until Slingshot hit on this: "You think what we did to Powerglide was bad you haven't seen anything yet! At least Powerglide has the ability to actually _care_ every now and again. I'll bet you haven't cared for one thing in your entire existence, have you? Bet it's all been just about you, jumping from one useful tool to another. Who cares who you step on so long as you're on top-"

"You know," Sandstorm broke in cold and smooth, "Fireflight has a pretty strong grip. Especially when you've got a hand up his turbine. Kinda makes you wonder what it'll take for him to beg."

"Silverbolt," Skydive radioed in and winced internally as Slingshot banked off, swearing explosively as he seemed intent in running Sandstorm out of the sky, "I believe I'm going to need your help in breaking up a dogfight."

"Tell him to bring an image capture with him." Broadside added.

* * *

Azzi: I... kind of have a chapter with Starscream in it? It's called Seekers and Wreckers- chapter 33, I believe. 

Jason: I'm somewhat partial to the idea of the twins being ringleaders and Bluestreak being their unwitting accomplice XD

Silveriss: I've really come to love their relationship, too. They give each other so much shit, but they really do respect each other for what they do and can do.

Khareesa: It's a bit of a hobby of mine- taking little known characters and rounding them out. I guess I do it for the challenge?

Dragowolf: (blushes) Aw, well thank you! I don't know about the best and nicest (though i won't stop you from thinking it XD), I just have fun doing these things and I'm glad other people do, too!

Veglma: Hahaha, I can bet Prowl will be watching the twins like a hawk from then on XD

ChaoticThought: Hee, Blue thinks Prowl can do (most) anything. Springer knows that Prowl is at least smart enough to think things through (even if he thinks Prowl overthinks everything).

Kyarorin: Doesn't he? He's like a little puppy you just want to cuddle!

Tomorrow: As much as their snarking is made of win, it is nice to show the depth of their relationship every now and again. And I doubt Prowl will have told the twins first. They don't need to be dealt with nearly as delicately as Bluestreak did at that point.

TammyCat: Thank you! I wonder if I'll ever actually stop doing these at some point XD


	92. Request: Fireflight and Sandstorm II

What's Wrong with a Little Destruction?  
The Wreckers

The continuing awesomeness of IDW's top strikeforce!

Note: Requested by TammyCat, Kyarorin and Dragowolf. Takes place a good deal of time into their relationship. Some of you may find this very similar to a drabble I did on my dA account and that is intentional. That's because this is a fairly important moment in their relationship. I apologize in advance. For the next chapter.

Also Note: nrrrrrgh, I'll put up a minor badtouch warning here. Just in case.

* * *

Request: Fireflight and Sandstorm II 

_"When I say, 'I love you', it's not because I want you or because I can't have you. It has nothing to do with me. I love what you are, what you do, how you try. I've seen your kindness and your strength. I've seen the best and the worst of you. And I understand with perfect clarity exactly what you are."  
-James Marsters_

"Sandstorm."

He didn't move, didn't even twitch.

"Sandstorm."

There wasn't even a hiccup in the soft purr of his engine.

"Sandstorm, I know you're online."

Slowly his optic band faded on, focused on Fireflight's face lying next to him. "Yeah?" Sandstorm asked in a thoroughly relaxed, thoroughly contented manner.

"You need to get up." The Aerialbot said, even as the lazy flex of Sandstorm's aileron caught his attention. He reached up, pressing the flat plane with a thumb, caressing the hinge. Red optics flared just slightly as Fireflight fondled the trim tab by the aileron.

"Flight…" He murmured, the hand moved down the trailing edge of his wing and then upwards. Sandstorm shivered ever so slightly as Fireflight traced the sensitive vents of his primary thrust intake.

There was a questioning 'hm?' even as Fireflight's tail scraped over Sandstorm's stabilizer (which he was pretty certain the jet didn't realize he was even doing) and making little sparks go off with each twitch of the flap. Sandstorm gave off a little groan, shifting around the berth until he was half on Fireflight's back, cockpits sliding together and Sandstorm reached over to fondle the quick-release fittings on the underside of Fireflight's wing, tweaking at the wiring until the smaller mech shuddered.

"Sandstorm…" air was cycling hot through his vents, "mmmm, stop…" Except with the way he was wriggling and pressing against the triplechanger, it didn't really seem like he meant it.

"Why?" Sandstorm whispered right next to Fireflight's audio.

"I have…" he arched with a soft whimper as the Wrecker leaned forward to blow a soft gust of air over the sensitive collection of sensors on his nosecone. "There's… call- have to," his thought process was scattering as Sandstorm pressed against every carefully learned weak spot, "t-t-to get… Primus, Sandstorm…!"

Sandstorm leaned in even closer, liking the way the Aerialbot writhed under him. "Hmmm?"

"Can't…"

"You started it."

"Didn't mean to," every hinge flexed hard as Sandstorm probed a particularly _delicious_ cluster of sensors, "you… feel so good…" He groaned- almost whimpered. "Stop, I can't… Bolt'll k-kill me if I- ah!" He tried to remember just what he was trying to say. "If I'm late again."

"I'll be quick." Sandstorm promised, liking the way he subdued colors looked against Fireflight's sharper scheme. "I want you too bad right now."

"I-"

SHRRIIIII! SHRRIIIII!

"_Primus_-"

The shrill cry of the alarm made Sandstorm jerk backward, overbalance and crash off the berth. Fireflight switched off his internal alarm and peered over the edge to see a fairly unamused Wrecker sprawled out in an odd angle. "Sometimes," he told the jet without actual directed anger, "I regret getting you that alarm upgrade."

"Sorry."

"Forget it. I know all about calls to duty." A little awkwardly the triplechanger clambered to his feet, accepting a hand up from Fireflight. "So what is it, exactly?"

"We got a call to help with an extraction from the front." The jet stood up as well, fingers itching to rest on Sandstorm's hip components, to run his thumb over the junction gap. "Got a brief and then we're off."

"Real important stuff, huh?"

"Yeah."

"Suppose I shouldn't be keeping you."

"Yeah." There was a long pause as the two just looked at each other, Sandstorm trying to fight down an emotion he was afraid to name, Fireflight trying to overcome his own hesitance and put it to words. Finally Fireflight dropped his gaze. But instead of backing away he threw his arms around Sandstorm, held him tight, let him feel the too too-honest surge of his spark and whispered against him, "I love you." Before Sandstorm could react, Fireflight abruptly broke away and jogged out of the room. Slowly the triplechanger sat on the edge of the berth, cycling through that last moment a few more times, trying to understand what just happened.

"Slag."

* * *

Veglma: It's just one of those videos the Wreckers would pull out on a slow day (to annoy the hell out of someone) and laugh at. 

Azzi: Thundercracker can generate sonic booms. The vibrations- especially in close proximity -would be able to damage or knock machinery offline.

Dragowolf: I'm hoping to have something done by chapter 100, but it's kinda... growing very large. It (among other things) will make everyone hate me o.o

Crimson Starlight: Well, I'm glad you've enjoyed reading this! I'm sorry I'm ruining your NaNo, so I'll just have to make it up to you with more chapters:D

Silveriss: I'm glad to be the bright spot in anyone's bad day! (hugs)

To everyone taken by the Sandy/Flight pairing: Hopefully tomorrow won't be so full a day I can't get the next chapter up pleasedon'tkillmeforit.


	93. Request: Exes and Wreckers

What's Wrong with a Little Destruction?  
The Wreckers

The continuing awesomeness of IDW's top strikeforce!

Note: Requested by Teh. The situation, anyway. The character pick was all mine. Which was why I apologized earlier.

* * *

Request: Exes and Wreckers 

_"Better never to have met you in my dream than to wake and reach for hands that are not there."  
-Otomo No Yakamochi_

It was a rather unusual situation for the Wreckers to be in as a certain cushion of electricity hung over the room. The Aerialbots sat in an icy silence throughout the briefing with only Silverbolt and occasionally Skydive making any comments or questions on the mission. The Wreckers, somewhat off-put by this (and knowing who exactly to blame, meaning Sandstorm had optics burning into him from all angles) were uncharacteristically quiet.

Sandstorm barely kept a receptor open to the mission objective, just kept glancing at the Aerialbots and Fireflight in particular who sat quiet and unusually focused between Slingshot and Air Raid. He tried to get the red jet's attention throughout the meeting but every trick he knew wasn't enough to get even an acknowledgement except from Slingshot who would occasionally try to commit bloody murder with his glares.

Fraggit all- he knew he hurt Fireflight when all was said and done but he hadn't actually _intended_ to (for once). He really did like the 'bot, absent-mindedness and all, but some things just came first. Like the Wreckers for one thing. And the war. And himself. Sandstorm was no fool, he knew he was still too self-absorbed to get into any kind of serious relationship. Except now he was shooting himself in the proverbial foot for not taking into consideration that it might've been something Fireflight was looking for.

He didn't mean for it to end the way it did, but Sandstorm had panicked. And now he had the collective animosity of the entire Aerialbot squad directed singularly at him and not one buddy left among the jets. The Wrecker had tried to apologize on several (dozen) occasions but chickened out each time until he convinced himself that Fireflight had gotten over it.

Fat chance.

When they were finally dismissed from the briefing Sandstorm tried to make his way toward Fireflight but Skydive deliberately moved in his path, giving his teammate the time to march stiffly out of the room. Feeling his spark plunge a little, Sandstorm jumped on the tables, running over them and to the doors, ignoring the commotion he left behind. "Fireflight!"

By the way Fireflight's shoulders jerked Sandstorm knew he heard him, but he didn't stop. "Hey- Flight! Wait up!" Still nothing. Sandstorm ran up to his side, trying to get his attention. Fireflight didn't even glance at him, just picked up his pace by half a stride but Sandstorm kept on his trail. "Can we talk? Flight- c'mon!" He grabbed the Aerialbot's arm to drag him to a stop.

The punch to the faceplate came at him so fast Sandstorm sprawled out on his aft. By the time his optics recalibrated the doors were already shutting behind Fireflight as he stormed into a lift. Suddenly he found a mass of red, white and black standing in front of him and the triplechanger craned his head back to see a very slagged off Slingshot, Air Raid and Skydive (Skydive? Wow, Fireflight really must've taken it hard) glaring him. The way they had their fists clenched gave him a pretty fair idea of what their intentions were.

"Aw sl-" the three jets launched themselves at him, fists and feet first. The other Wreckers set themselves up on the ends of the corridor without a word, redirecting traffic and gawkers. And occasionally pushing a tossed fighter back into the brawl.

Silverbolt stood a few paces from the heart of the battle, arms crossed and foot tapping. Springer went to stand next to him, frowning at the fight. "You know," he said evenly, "Fireflight did bring it upon himself. It's not like Sandstorm's reputation is a secret to anyone."

"I know." Came the low reply. "Conversely, Sandstorm did too. You know how it is."

Of course. Mess with one of them, you mess with them all. Break one of their sparks in that spectacularly thickheaded way Sandstorm had the innate talent for (for all his charm, he never could figure out a way to end a relationship of any length gracefully) was asking for a beat down from the rest. The Wreckers knew this well which was why they weren't interfering. Maybe, Springer couldn't help but think, it would make Sandstorm a little more careful with the kind of 'bots he chose to mess around with in the future.

The two leaders stood there for a moment more before Springer said, "Give 'em five before you call 'em off. We still need Sandstorm operational for this mission."

Silverbolt nodded tightly. "Understood." Despite the hidden measure of satisfaction in his optics, there was still tension in him. Springer looked back over to the brawling group- Sandstorm was managing to give as good as he got but he was obviously being overpowered. He ducked his head and rubbed at the curve of his helmet.

"You might as well get a couple kicks in yourself." He told the jet. "Primus knows I would."

That tension transformed into full-out satisfaction and Silverbolt grinned tightly. "I might." And stepped toward the fray.

* * *

Erm, I feel the need to explain something about Sandstorm (that is, my version of him). He spent almost his entire life in one of the most corrupt and dangerous cities on Cybertron (probably second only to Kaon) and the only thing he knew about strong emotional attachments is it's something he'd exploit in others and they could do the same to him (if he had them). Everything Sandstorm did was all about survival and was self-serving. It wasn't until he joined the Wreckers that he ever met people that had no ulterior motives and genuinely cared about him. It took him a damn long time to accept the fact that he'd come to care unconditionally for them but he rationalized it because he has to trust his life to them. What he feels for Fireflight, though, he can't rationalize at all and it frankly confuses and scares him so when he realized just how deep he was getting in this relationship he panicked. Badly. So while it's in no way an excuse, just felt I should put this in context. 

Azzi: Happy to help!

Crimson: Too cute for me to resist, too...

Dragowolf: To answer your question: yes. Yes he did do something stupid.

Kyarorin: It started off as a joke, seriously. I just want to do a one-time fling and then I needed a pair for this prompt and... actually everything else I've written about those two came after I already planned this one out. They really just snowballed me. As oft my totally random ideas do, actually.

Dragon: I don't mind at all! Hope you had a good vacation- I wish I could take one D:

Veglma: Um... wonder no more?

TammyCat: Interesting... is a mild way of putting it, yes.


	94. Request: Wheeljack and Topspin

What's Wrong with a Little Destruction?  
The Wreckers

The continuing awesomeness of IDW's top strikeforce!

Note: Requested by Dragon of Dispair. Takes place after Ratchet and Topspin.

Also Note: Sporadic updates are back again which will probably last until the end of December as I'm also going to be moving next month.

* * *

Request: Wheeljack and Topspin 

_"This punishment is not boring and pointless."  
-Nancy Cartwright_

Wheeljack looked more intrigued than anything. "So your vocalizer got disconnected, huh?"

Topspin nodded.

"And your radio?"

He nodded again.

Wheeljack reclined in a chair almost dangerously far. "I have to admit it, I'm impressed."

Of the expressions on the jumpstarter's faceplate, gratitude was not among them.

"You _did_ bring it on yourself, you know."

Topspin opened his mouth, made no sound, shut it and fumed.

"Under normal circumstances," Wheeljack said, contemplating, "I'd help you out." Topspin regarded him with carefully guarded hope. "It's been a while since I've seen Ratchet laugh that hard, too. He really needed it and that would be incentive enough for me to be nice." Topspin's expression brightened greatly. "But then I recall that it was Springer that had the other Wreckers weld you to the ceiling by your feet, cut off all your communications, disconnect the servos in your arms and paint you such a shocking green. I'm afraid to see what they'd do to someone that _isn't_ one of them."

The jumpstarter tried to make an obscene gesture and failed.

"Don't worry, I'm sure they'll let you down soon." Wheeljack stood up- he was starting to get a kink in his neck from looking up at Topspin. "Good luck to you."

Topspin hoped if he shouted curses in his processor loud enough someone would hear him.

* * *

Contia: I usually don't either, but after you brought it up (and as i had never heard that particular song though i'm looking for it now) the idea stuck in my head and I've found Casey Startton's Hollow and Howie Day's Collide fits really well for them in my mind. 

ChaoticThought: Yeah, chapter 92 is what lead up to Sandstorm's idiocy.

TammyCat: Well, for one he didn't have the courage to do it to his face, just pretty much left a note saying it was over and then cut off all contact with Flight. So I don't think it's so much the act of breaking up that got Fireflight so pissed as it was the way it was done.

Lodestar: Yeah, a spinoff is being worked on XD

To every converted shipper out there: I won't be focusing so much on their relationship from here on out though there will be some mentions of it now and again because, well, this is a Wreckers-centric series. Azure (more commonly known as Thing With No Talent here which is a great misnomer as she is neither a thing nor without talent) has offered to start up a collaborative effort with me in regards to exploring and expanding on their relationship more. Hopefully that'll get up and going soon!


	95. Request: Dynobots and Wreckers

What's Wrong with a Little Destruction?  
The Wreckers

The continuing awesomeness of IDW's top strikeforce!

Note: Requested by Khareesa. Takes place after Jealous Wreckers and the Dynobots/Shockwave encounter mentioned in the flashback in Spotlight: Shockwave.

* * *

Request: Dynobots and Wreckers 

_"They'll knock you when you're up and kick you when you're down."  
-Cat Power_

Hoist looked up as the doors to the medbay opened up and kept peering at them when no one was on the other side. Eventually a head poked around the edge, saw Hoist, did a quick look around, and then cocked to one side to question Hoist silently.

"Ratchet is off shift." He said.

Voices from out of sight went up in a cheer. "Woohoo! Good timing!" Hoist watched as the head disappeared and then five Wreckers swaggered in with the biggest- if there was an equivalent term in the Cybertronian language –shit-eating grins the medic had ever seen on that many faceplates at once. Twin Twist was at the fore, rubbing his hands together.

"So where're they bein' strapped down at?"

He really shouldn't be telling them. He should, in fact, be turning them right around and keep them from bothering other patients. Especially other very large, very short-tempered and very torqued patients.

"In the isolation ward."

"Thanks!" The Wreckers gave him thumbs up and made their way through the medbay. Hoist just turned his back to them and pretended to be hard at work on something important.

The doors to the isolation wards opened up and the group stepped in with big, cheery grins. "Hey, hey, Dynobots! What's the word?" They asked, smug in only the way someone who has a) won a bet, b) beat their rivals, c) come to gloat on the physically impaired and d) all of the above could.

The Dynobots in turn glowered something fierce at the Wreckers. And if they weren't all strapped to the berths, they'd no doubt be up and trying to beat down on the other strike force. 'Try' being the key word as with all the burns and exposed wiring and shredded armor they probably weren't going to be able to put up much of a fight. But they still snarled and swore all the same.

Whirl, with great glee, went up to the closest Dynobot- Snarl –and began reading off his medical chart. He was no Topspin, but he still knew an awful lot on the workings of a 'bot. "Lessee here, broken support struts, major structural damage, busted fuel lines, shattered hip ball-joint, damaged primary voltage regulator- I see you've been grounded," the helo cackled as Snarl's growling deepened, "shattered photovoltaic generator, widespread energon burns, cracked hydraulic joints, wow- it just goes on and on!"

"What do you want?" Grimlock growled. He didn't snap but his vocalizer still gave the sense that his words were going to wrap around your throat and break your neck if you continued to annoy him.

"To gloat!" They said almost too happily.

"We don't feel like hearing it. Get out."

"Or what?" Twin Twist taunted. "You'll pout us into submission?"

Scoop put up an arm to lean against the driller's shoulder. "Not like you'll be able to chase us down with those restraints on you. We know- we tried to force our way out of them before."

"If you think we're as weak as you," Slag spat, straining against his own binds and the flexiseals over his chest creaking slightly, "you need an overhaul to your CPU!"

"You wanna prove us wrong? Show us what you got!" They taunted, Broadside even patted his thighs like he was encouraging some frightened creature. "C'mon, you can do! Oh- aw, you almost had it, c'mon!"

The Wreckers cackled terribly as Slag kicked and struggled and cursed. The other Dynobots stewed and glared, knowing they couldn't do anything and saying anything would just encourage the other mechs. They didn't actually have to say anything, though, because the Wreckers could tell from the murderous gleam in their optics that they were going to hunt the five (if not all eight) of them down and kill them in the slowest, most painful and humiliating way they knew how.

Finally able to gain the self-control to speak properly again, Whirl snickered. "We did actually come here for a purpose asides from reveling in your pain. Springer's got your next assignment cleared through Prime. Once you're deemed fit for duty, you'll be doing an entire stellar cycle doing routine patrols through some quiet, _peaceful_ systems." They snickered again as Snarl and Swoop started to struggle along with Slag. Sludge stewed, glaring while Grimlock stayed eerily silent. It was as if he were looking at the Wreckers and imagining all the different ways he could rip them apart. The Wreckers would've been intimidated if they weren't used to similar looks from most of the Decepticons they've met.

"Ah, good times." Twin Twist gave them a bright, beaming smile with his arms akimbo. "We should really do this again sometime! When you're back on your feet and in the action, that is. Enjoy your vacation!" With another parting bout of sniggering the Wreckers walked out of the isolation war.

Grimlock tried to burn holes through the doors. "I," he growled almost subsonically, "am going to murder someone." His team sneered and nodded. "Starting with that one-optic freak for putting us in here."

* * *

To all who asked: The reason Topspin was in the... condition he was in was because it happens not long after the Ratchet and Topspin chapter. In which Spin, in all his Hatchet-handling expertise, got the Wreckers placed on forced convalescent leave which is time needed for medical recuperation. 

Dragon: Haha, I'm glad I'm an accomplished mind reader!

Teh: I hope not, I'm only moving just outside the city. I'd be upset if they managed to disappear after just that distance!

Contia: Oh no. Scoop would be the one sending the poor slagger out looking for his limbs (after personally ripping them off, of course). The other Wreckers would either bet on if all the parts are found or just play keep away with them XD

Gloria: Who the other one could be? Hmmm, that's a tough one- there's not many that are as large as Broadside is...

Guess: I have no idea, but those lines you quoted made me snicker.

Azzi: Sorry I missed your birthday! Go out and get drunk:D

Hellsfirescythe: I try to be realistic with my portrayals by having the bad with the good but... I'm also a romantic at heart (like... under all the violence and sadism down there somewhere) and it was very hard to want to keep with my plan of breaking them up since I'd gotten very attached to them. Which is why this spin-off thing is going to be happening, really.


	96. Request: Optimus Prime and Wreckers II

What's Wrong with a Little Destruction?  
The Wreckers

The continuing awesomeness of IDW's top strikeforce!

Note: Requested by VAWitch. Post-Jazz, Prowl versus Wreckers III.

Also Note: Okay, I'm going to unfortunately call off taking any more requests. I've got over 25 prompts people have been tossing at me on top of the rest of these 28 prompts I've yet to actually cover. So until those are whittled down to a far more manageable number, I'm taking in no more requests. Sorry, but I want to get to everyone who's already put one in.

* * *

Request: Optimus Prime and Wreckers II 

_"Any commander who fails to exceed his authority is not of much use to his subordinates."  
-Arleigh Burke_

Optimus Prime sat at his desk with four of his officers before him. Ratchet stood on one end, still seething but far more calm and coherent than he'd been for the last cycle, Springer was on the other side, the fin on his helmet now crooked to one side and between them, still that blinding yellow color, were Prowl and Jazz. The Autobot leader resisted the urge to put his head in his hands and go 'ARGH'. Just barely. Instead he sat and gave them a flat look, trying to decide where to start. The four stood there at prefect parade rest.

Eventually he said, "Ratchet- I know you've been placed in charge of the human children and your devotion to their wellbeing is admirable. However I would greatly appreciate your not damaging my strike force until they've at least dealt with Sixshot."

Ratchet's mouth pressed into a taunt, thin line. "Yessir."

"You are dismissed to help the children get themselves cleaned. You will also repair any damage done to the Wreckers without a word of complaint or threat. Understood?"

For a moment it looked as if Ratchet would say something, but he bit the comment back and instead snapped to attention. "Yessir!" He swiveled on a heel and marched stiffly out of the office. One down, three to go.

"It seems to me," Optimus Prime said slowly, "that all of this stemmed from the Wreckers' stealth training. Therefore any unauthorized training that includes paint of any kind is hereby banned from application and the only Autobots to be included in training must give their consent and be aware that it is taking place."

"Yessir." Springer said, gaze not wavering from that thousand mile stare.

"This goes for you, too, Jazz."

"Yessir."

"And Prowl, please refrain from edging Ratchet into a frenzy from now on."

"Yessir."

Optimus Prime sat back in his seat. "I'm highly disappointed in all of you. This is hardly the time to indulge in some fledgling pranks." The three officers made no move. "This little war between you ends now. Is that understood?"

"Yessir." They said together.

"Springer, your Wreckers will clean up the mess that resulted from this prank. Including helping Jazz and Prowl clean the paint off themselves." To his credit Springer didn't so much as twitch. Optimus did, however, catch the minute flare of Prowl's doorwings going back. "As much as you trust their ability to follow through on their missions, you should be able to trust them to not exacerbate things off-duty."

"Yessir." Prowl said blandly. Jazz's mouth twitched up slightly.

"Do not repeat this incident. Dismissed."

As one, the three officers snapped to attention, did an about-face and walked out. Optimus Prime didn't doubt that someone between them would make a comment and somehow end up starting an argument. Sometimes it baffled him the kind of extremes his officers had.

He waited and he listened carefully. He didn't hear any talking and finally allowed himself to relax. He turned on a comm link. "Nightbeat."

"_Yes, Prime?_"

"Patch the surveillance camera from the lower decks to my monitor."

"_Sure thing. Keeping a little something for prosperity?_"

Optimus Prime smiled quietly to himself. "Something like that."

* * *

Khareesa: I get the impression that the Dynobots and Wreckers have an on-going rivalry. Not for any real reason than the fact they're both highly competitive groups that just has to be the best. 

Alana: Thanks! I do like using the humans but it's a little difficult to squeeze them in there.

VAWitch: I actually have a vague way to continue on with this following loosely the comic timeline. We'll see if I'll actually be able to do it, though.

Kyarorin: It's just an average day for the Wreckers XD

Crimson: See, that's why I have a hot glue gun!

Contia: Oh yeah, Scoop can handle his own. Which doesn't mean the others won't be there to hell to pay from the other Wreckers, of course.

Azzi: See, I'm the opposite. I get a hangover AS I drink so I'm generally in good shape in the morning. Though it is also a reason I don't drink often.

Jason: Just because he's the most level-headed doesn't make him immune to bragging or provocation. I think he's just as proud as the other Dynobots, just less prone to violent outbursts.

Tomorrow: I like tying into the comic when I can!

Veglma: So long as he doesn't catch the Wreckers in there, I doubt Ratchet will find out. It's not like the Dynobots will tattle.

Dragowolf: I wouldn't doubt that Dynobots have an entire list of the ways they'd get back at the Wreckers XD


	97. Request: Helpful Wreckers

What's Wrong with a Little Destruction?  
The Wreckers

The continuing awesomeness of IDW's top strikeforce!

Note: Requested by Dragowolf and Tomorrow. Sort of. It… it kinda got away from me. Takes place after Prowl and Springer.

* * *

Request: Helpful Wreckers 

_"If you're not cheating, you're not trying hard enough."  
-Unknown_

The fist slammed hard into Sunstreaker's chest but he refused to buckle, pushing back just as hard but the sheer size and weight of his opponent was making it difficult for him to gain the upper hand. Not to mention he could _brawl_, Primus fraggit. Sideswipe wasn't faring all that much better because while his opponent was more his size he was also a lot trickier to handle- especially with all the damn sharp edges and the drills.

Sunstreaker twisted around, forcing the both of them into something like a wobbling half-circle and ducked in, wrapping his arms around the broad waist and tucking his head. He gritted his dental plating and tried to ignore the pain as hands pounded into his back and shoulders and sides. At least he couldn't get enough leverage for a decent hit but it still fragging hurt!

C'mon, he growled to himself, c'mon c'mon c'mon c'mon!

Something exploded against his opponent's shoulder and he gave a sharp bark of pain- just as Sunstreaker felt something smash into the base of his back, damage receptors flaring in his processor and making him fall to his knees. As the pain hazed out of his optics, Sunstreaker saw Sideswipe on the ground, clutching at his side. It was splashed with bright orange, the same color that was now covering Sunstreaker's lower back.

"Ow, Primus." Roadbuster reached for his shoulder and saw the bright blue that came off on his hand. "Be a little faster next time, Sandstorm."

"Che! I down the both of them and you got off with just a disabled arm. You're some kinda critic, you know that?" The triplechanger groused from his sniping perch, almost invisible in the cover of the practice field. Twin Twist snickered, finding a place to sit and rest some.

"That was a helluva shot." Sideswipe half-wheezed, still on the ground. They practiced with simulated damage patches- where ever the sim rounds hit the patches would calculate the sort of damage it would've done in an actual battle and sent the information to the processor and would simulate the wounds inflicted. As it was Sideswipe would've sustained severed fuel lines and a ruptured tank. If he didn't go down at that moment he would've bled out without medical attention. Sunstreaker would've been out for the rest of the battle with a damaged spinal column.

Bluestreak came up to the four of them looking sheepish. "Sorry." He apologized to the twins. "I couldn't locate Sandstorm and I thought I could get both Roadbuster and Twin Twist but I just couldn't get a good line of fire and I don't know how he did it. If he fired any sooner he would've hit his own team and I didn't want to take the chance because the last time Sunstreaker said he'd-"

"Blue." The twins said. "Shut up, we know."

Roadbuster reached over with his functioning arm and gave the gunner a gentle shake by the chevron. "If it makes you feel better, it wouldn't have been the first time Sandy shot one of us."

Sandstorm came down around the rest of them and elbowed Twin Twist lightly. "You hear that? He's always got something bad to say."

The driller shrugged. "That's what officer do, I think."

"Yeah, pretty much." Topspin came over the last ridge toward the group. He knelt down next to Sunstreaker and reset the sim patch, then did the same for Sideswipe and Roadbuster. The group had been doing battle practices for almost an entire shift now and they were getting worn and beat up. While it was an average day for the Wreckers this was mainly so the twins and Bluestreak could get used to working together. It was actually going a lot better than most were expecting it to though they've yet to be tested in an actual fight.

"Not bad." Springer's voice came over the speakers, watching the proceedings from the observation deck set high on one side of the practice field. "Sandstorm, this time give 'em a bit of air coverage."

"You got it, Chief!" Sandstorm saluted the observation deck cheekily. Topspin did a quick check over every mech, gave the okay to continue and headed back towards the doors. The two teams split up, giving the standard fifteen kliks to prepare for the next attack.

While the twins and Bluestreak were by no means tacticians they were hardly pushovers when it came to battlefield. Well, the twins anyway. Sunstreaker took the lead and they moved in a staggered line, each one with an overlapping 180-degree coverage as they moved. After some time they began to get edgy. They knew the Wreckers had a knack for guerilla tactics and making themselves scarce for a trap, but surely they would've seen some sign of them-

"Argh, Primus!"

"The slagging hell-"

"Take cover!"

They took cover, damage receptors flashing. Sunstreaker was torqued. "_Scoop_? What the hell- Since when was he fighting!?"

"Reinforcements." Springer's voice said rather smugly. "Never know when they'll come in so you gotta prepare for 'em!"

"I'll prepare a fist ramming straight down your-"

Sideswipe pushed his brother down. "Incoming!" Sandstorm blasted right over them, peppering the ground with fire. As he passed over, Bluestreak chased him off with a couple missiles that were shot down by Roadbuster. They looked up long enough to discern a total of six Wreckers closing in on them before they were forced to duck.

"What the slag are we supposed to do now?" They groused, wincing as the berm rained down over them.

"Anyone have a surrender beacon?" Sideswipe growled, scrunched up on his back.

"Smokescreen, cover the area. Jazz, Blaster, get the three of them back to the RZ. Wheeljack, see if you can't deal with their damage."

All at once the field was covered in thick smoke and Roadbuster called for the Wreckers to fall back. The speakers came one again. "What, you're a party crasher now?"

Prowl stood in the observation deck opposite Springer and even from that distance the triplechanger could see the slight twitching of his lips. "Reinforcements. You do have to plan for them."

Springer grinned back at him broadly. "Topspin," he said, switching off the speaker, "care to go down and even up the playing field?"

"My pleasure!"

He flicked the speaker on again. "Reliving the academy days, are we?"

That twitching solidified into a faint smirk. "If you want to consider it that."

Well, in that case: Game on.

* * *

Dragon: Optimus probably considers his troops as his own personal entertainers. Whenever they're not generating paperwork for him to deal with XD 

Veglma: Yeah. Needs less headache.

Teh: Thanks!

Jason: And everyone knows the big guy needs it D:

Dragowolf: Hope studying is going good for you!

Flamingmarsh: Yeah, it's gotten monstrous at this point XD

Hellsfirescythe: Absolutely the paragon of rank! You know, so long as you close your eyes and stand in a separate room.

Azzi: Glad to make people laugh!

Star Lin: You know no one else on Ark will be able to look at them with a straight face for a while!


	98. Request: Twins and Topspin

What's Wrong with a Little Destruction?  
The Wreckers

The continuing awesomeness of IDW's top strikeforce!

Note: Requested by Seekerfemme and Azzi. Takes place after Ratchet and Wreckers II.

Also Note: Finals are over! But I'm moving early next week so this will be the last chapter until I can get internet in my new apartment. But hopefully things will get back on track afterwards!

* * *

Request: Twins and Topspin 

_"Whenever a doctor cannot do good, he must be kept from doing harm."  
-Hippocrates_

The first thing Topspin did when he came online was groan. Then he ran a diagnostic as he continued his groaning. Then he did a mental double take and said, "_What?_"

"You need to be a bit more specific when you ask or you could be getting some very interesting answers."

His optics came on with a flash. The first thing he noticed was a face suddenly and disturbingly close to his. He gave a startled shout, bringing up an arm to-

Bringing up- bring- who tied down his arms?

"Ratchet didn't want you getting the bright idea of moving around." The face told him. The cheeky grin and tone (and face itself) could only belong to Sideswipe. "Or thinking you could discharge yourself."

Topspin looked around in confusion, noting that he was on his back in medbay. Asides from himself and the twins (Sunstreaker standing behind his brother at a less startling distance), the place seemed empty. "Okay, under protest of having to be this cliché, what happened?"

"You got hurt. Ow!" Sideswipe stood up to glare at his brother, rubbing his aft where Sunstreaker had planted his foot.

"He meant," the yellow mech ignored the look, "you were badly injured in battle and have been out for almost three planetary cycles."

"I-what?" Topspin tried to bolt upright, forgetting he was restrained. "_Three_? What did I miss? And why are you two here?"

"A small skirmish and a firefight that's currently on-going. There's just an aide running around here somewhere."

"Sunny scared her off." Sideswipe cackled.

"And genius here," Sunstreaker continued, emphasizing this with another kick to Sideswipe's aft, "got himself half-fragged and I ended up taking some flak pulling his sorry chassis to safety."

The red warrior, not trying to correct his brother (meaning not only was it true but he was also a little sheepish over the fact) told the prone medic, "While Jet Judo is both effective and fun, Tank Fu still has many kinks to be worked out."

"Try it again and I'll work them out on your aft."

Topspin- still trying to understand all that happened to him –wasn't in the mood to play around. "Someone tell me why my internal sensors have been switched off."

Sideswipe moved back to sit on the berth next to Topspin's. The jumpstarter realized a good potion of his armor had recently been pounded out or was missing entirely and he was limping around without all the components in his left knee joint. "Don't really know. All that medical jargon is a little beyond us. What we did get, though, was a lot of minor bits had to be replaced and a lot of your essentials are not on hand, so they made due with only partly compatible parts."

"That's the unfortunate part about being a hover vehicle." Topspin drawled. "But that doesn't explain why my sensors are off."

"A lot of those replaced parts came from Twin Twist and Cliffjumper."

The blue and white mech reset his audio, cycled through the last sentence and then, very intelligently, asked, "What? Okay- Twist I could understand, but Cliffjumper?"

The twins shrugged. "We're just saying what we know."

"Apparently," Sunstreaker said, "he came online while Ratchet was working on you, found out you were badly damaged protecting him and practically _demanded_ Ratchet used some of his parts on you."

Topspin was still muddled. "Wait, Jumper's components even _fit_ in me? But he's a minibot!"

"Don't believe us?" The red twin grabbed the chart at the end of the berth and gave it to his brother to hold in front of Topspin. "Check it out."

He scanned through the information, getting more and more incredulous as he went. "Wait a klik- Cliffjumper's secondary hydraulic pump is the same size as my primary?" He was stunned. "That's freakish!"

"You're a hover vehicle." Sunstreaker said. "Your hydraulic pump isn't that big to begin with."

"Still! That means his primary is probably the size of my head!"

Sideswipe shrugged. "It does explain why he's so slagging gung-ho about every little thing. So hey," he leaned forward a little, "how're you holding up?"

Topspin looked up at the ceiling, frowning faintly as he dwelled on the question. "…surprisingly well given all the pre-configured components I was given. That's probably why Ratchet turned off my internal scanners- so long as my processor doesn't read them as 'not mine' my body is less inclined to reject the parts." He paused for a moment. "I hope to Primus those replacement parts get here soon. I think I'll go insane if I end up staying here- _online_ –for another three planetary cycles."

"Nah, Ratchet'll beat ya offline before you go stir-crazy."

"Because you'll drive him plain crazy before that."

He snorted. "Yeah." And then he grinned wickedly. "Since I'm tied down here, you two wanna provide me with some entertainment?"

The twins exchanged glances, mentally calculating if Topspin's sense of fun outweighed the inevitable yelling at they'd get from Ratchet. They leaned forward eagerly. "Whaddya have in mind?"

* * *

Veglma: Root for both? XD 

Dragon: Haha, Springer calls it real-world tactics. Prowl calls it him being bored and having fun and will thus call him on his shit XD

Jason: Place bets now?

Bai Lang: And the cheating. You can't forget about the cheating.

Pax Athena: Glad you're enjoying it! I'd almost apologize for the amount of catching up you have to do but... it's worth it?

Kyarorin: Wreckers will do things officially. If they get to break enough things.

Khareesa: Oh man... that 100th special has gotten so out of hand.

Tomorrow: Get the two of them going and they'll probably never stop until one of them yields. Which they'd never do XD

Star Lin: I think at this point not only is their rivalry ingrained in their dealings with each other, but they'd probably actually miss it if it ever went away.

Silveriss: Sporadically, but getting back on track!

Dragowolf: I actually have a list :P Hope your tests went as good as mine (surprisingly) did!


	99. Homeless Wreckers

What's Wrong with a Little Destruction?  
The Wreckers

The continuing awesomeness of IDW's top strikeforce!

Note: In reference to a flashback in Stormbringer where Megatron brings up the suggestion that the only way to kill Thunderwing is to destroy Cybertron with him still on it.

Also Note: I doubt this big thing I'm working on will be done by the time I throw up chapter 100 and it probably won't even be done by the New Year it's so fragging huge. I'm serious. It's a 30 pages right now and still not finished. So tell me, what do you prefer: a few very long chapters or a lot of smaller chapters?

* * *

20. Homeless Wreckers 

_"Only the dead have seen the end of war."  
-Plato_

Optimus Prime hadn't wanted to bring the suggestion up to his core officers but at this point even he was running disturbingly low on hope: the hope that they could deal with Thunderwing or that there would even be a planet afterwards.

Most, as he figured, were outright against it. "_Nuke_ Cybertron?" Ironhide gaped. "Our _home_?"

Jazz's customary smile- strained as it had gotten recently –had disappeared completely. "You're not seriously considering it, are you, Prime?"

"There has to be another way." Jetfire added, almost a pleading note on the edges of his words.

"I don't want to." He said lowly, arms crossed before his chest. "Even now I don't want to, but…"

"At this point it doesn't seem like we have much of a choice."

Everyone turned to the corner in the back where the leaders of the Dynobots and Wreckers seemed to have declared theirs in these meetings. Both stood there, stoic and harsh with optics that were all business. The other officers regarded them coldly.

"Thunderwing was right from the beginning." Grimlock said gruffly. "We were destroying this place on our own with our war. Even if we killed him using conventional means and we could salvage Cybertron, what makes you think we can actually _save_ it? Is this war going to end and both sides suddenly live in rainbows and sunshine?" That made Springer give a sadistically quirked grin. "If Thunderwing doesn't destroy the planet, we'll finish it off after we do him."

"Assuming," the triplechanger added, "we even survive this battle. We haven't suffered casualties this high since the first years of the war and we haven't gotten any closer to beating him since we've teamed up with the Decepticons."

"So you want us to just abandon the place?" Ironhide snapped.

"You'd rather sacrifice more lives for a planet we can't save?"

"That's enough." It wasn't sharp, but it was firm. Optimus Prime looked to both officers with a worn gaze. "I brought this idea up for a discussion on considering it, not to turn it into an argument. We have enough fighting to worry about without having to add each other to it." He turned to look each 'bot in the optics and he could read their answer in their expressions. A fair number obviously didn't want to consider it at all, a couple others asides from Springer and Grimlock had come to figure perhaps nuking Cybertron was the best course. Most were like Optimus Prime and was afraid that that's what it would come to. Two, however, he couldn't read.

"Prowl? Kup? What do you think?"

Prowl didn't look up, kept focused on some spot no one could see and conflict warring openly behind his optics. It was a struggle and it obviously pained him but he eventually said, "Our choices right now are limited. And they're rapidly dwindling as we speak. In the end I'm afraid we'll have to take that option if we agree with it or not."

Kup just looked at Optimus Prime in that aged way he had that kept anyone from knowing what it was he was thinking. "You do what's best for everyone, Prime. That's what you need to consider above all else."

Before the Autobot leader could make some sort of reply alarms went off and a voice came over the room. "_Prime! We've got contact! Thunderwing is coming in fast on our perimeter at Thunderhead Pass!_"

A collective hiss filled the room. "Defenses haven't been fully restored since the last time he hit it!"

Springer was already on his comm at the same time Grimlock opened his own. "Roadbuster! Scramble the Wreckers to Thunderhead Pass pronto! I'll meet you en route!"

"Dynobots- we're on the move!"

Before any of the other officers could react both strike team leaders were already moving for the door. Just before he reached it, though, Springer stopped and turned. Grimlock kept stomping out, itching for the fight. "Prime," the triplechanger said evenly, "we can always build a new home. But only if we have the 'bots to do it with." That said he strode out to meet up with his team on the front.

* * *

Azure: They're very fun and I'm glad you think I do them justice! 

Jason: You and me both, buddy.

Dragon: It's the twins and a Wrecker. They're ALWAYS getting into trouble!

Dragowolf: Man, physics that early must be rough. At least it's over now, though.

ChaoticThought: Haha, the punishment they get into is always worth it for a moment of joy at someone's expense, I'm sure XD

Tomorrow: I came up with Tank Fu randomly on a walk back from school and was determined to use it SOMEWHERE.

Pax Athena: Honestly? I have no clue. I blame it on my brain having nothing better to do. And my move was rather stress-free, thanks!

Tiamat: Hahaha, um... yeah, about that special installment... oh boy.

Teh: Everyone always underestimates the minibots!

Veglma: Tank Fu is probably the first thing (asides from messing up his paintjob) Sunstreaker has ever banned Sideswipe from doing XD

VAWitch: I ate leftover dinner and watched Invader Zim with my dad after he helped me move! It was a very nice holiday XD

Azzi: Hurray! I hope you and your unit comes home safe! I really appreciate what it is you put yourselves through for everyone, so I'm very happy to make your time away easier.

Crimson: If Topspin wasn't tied down, I wonder if Sideswipe would've stood that close...

Ronin: I'm glad you liked it! I hope everyone's holidays went as well as mine, even with the moving!


	100. Request: Mirage and Wreckers

What's Wrong with a Little Destruction?  
The Wreckers

The continuing awesomeness of IDW's top strikeforce!

Note: Requested by Lodestar and Bai Lang. Ironically the Wreckers decide to talk about home AFTER the homeless prompt… Also, keeping with naval traditions, I've given Xantium a female gender. Take that as you will.

Also Note: The special 100th chapter is... about 2/3 done. I'm estimating it to be about 40 pages or so (and it was supposed to be a ONE SHOT) so I'll probably break it into 4 installments since most of you seem to want to see longer chapters.

Also Also Note: For those of you that haven't seen it already that Sandstorm/Fireflight series Azure and I are doing is up (chapter 2 out already!) called You and I Collide. Enjoy your further doses of Wrecker/Aerialbot fluff there!

* * *

Request: Mirage and Wreckers 

_"You can't command people to do their best; they can only command that of themselves."  
-Bob Nelson_

Doing what he did best, Mirage moved along the landscape silently and unnoticed. He still felt so incredibly out of his depth and it seemed the more he tried to comprehend and work with others the further they were slipping away from his understanding. A couple Autobot ships were patrolling a sector and had come under heavy fire from Decepticon forces. Though they turned back the attackers the commander of the patrol had decided to land on a nearby moon in order to ensure all damages were taken care of. Repairs weren't extensive and they were ready to fly again. Mirage wandered aimlessly among the giant wings as the ships were being prepped for takeoff.

"Hey! Hey, Mirage!"

The sniper paused, a little surprised that someone actually decided to notice him and he looked around. And then up. On one of Xantium's large planes was Whirl and Scoop, the latter waving down at him. "You busy?" He called. "Come on up and give us a hand!"

Curious- and having nothing else to do –Mirage climbed up. As he reached the top he saw the two Wreckers bent over something. "I thought all the repairs had already been done."

"We're not repairing." Scoop said with a bright smile. Whirl didn't bother to look up. "We're just doing a bit of cleaning is all."

Cleaning? "Between atmospheric entry and the vacuum of space-"

Whirl interrupted with slight annoyance. "Yeah, yeah. We know."

Pausing to give the much taller mech a flat look, Scoop turned his attention back to Mirage, coaxing him closer. "Just because you don't _have_ to do something doesn't mean you shouldn't ever do it. Xantium is our home. Can't expect someone to treat you well if you don't do something nice in return." He handed Mirage a cleaning pad and the sniper looked at the thing and at what the two had already done and then back at the digger as if to call him out on some sort of prank.

Scoop merely snickered. "We know- trying to get all of Xantium cleaned, especially at one time at our size, is pretty damn impossible. But we get to what we can when we can." He patted the red surface below him. The slight thrum under them went just one level louder.

Mirage didn't do anything but sit, still trying to understand what and why they were doing this. Scoop had gone back to polishing the metal and Whirl- his blades rotated to one side, out of the way – knelt with a panel coming out of his arm to push a cleaning pad around.

"This is your home?" It took a moment for Mirage to realize the soft words had come out of him.

Scoop sat back on his heels. "Yeah. Some of them," he indicated to Whirl with a toss of his head, "never really had a home before. Some of us," by the way he said it Mirage knew the digger meant himself, "were lucky enough to find a second home."

He looked over Xantium again. "Is it, really? This was an outdated carrier before you converted it to your battlecruiser."

"'New' doesn't mean 'better'," Whirl said in a dry snap, "and Xantium is one of us. She deserves as much respect as the rest of us." 'If not more' was unspoken but there. Scoop swatted Whirl's arm with the back of his hand, but his expression didn't say he disagreed with what was said.

"I think you misunderstood what I said. The Wreckers- the idea, what we do –is our home. Xantium is the member that transports us and gives us a place to recharge."

The thought of an _____idea_ being home boggled Mirage's processor. "I don't understand."

Scoop put his hands to his thighs, trying to find the right words for it. "Well, home isn't really a place- well, it is but it sort of depends on your perception of the word. Home is the place where you can relax and be who you are and enjoy being who you are. Sometimes home is where you were created, or where you ended up after. Sometimes home is with one or a group of others. If you lose one home, maybe you'll be lucky enough to find another. Maybe, if you're really lucky, you'll be comfortable enough in yourself that you can carry home around wherever you go."

The blue and white mech just looked blankly down at the cleaning pad. "I don't think I can find another home." He said at last. "I didn't ask to be a part of this war. I didn't want to be."

"I can tell you there's plenty of 'bots that didn't ask or want to be dead, either. But they are."

"Whirl-"

But he pressed on right over Scoop's protest. "So you don't want to be here. There's a lot of others that don't want to be, either. If you hate it that much, then leave. You know we don't have enough bodies to go after every single deserter. It happened, it sucked that it happened, but it did and it can't be changed no matter how much you pine for better times. And now you're here and the question is what are you going to do about it?" Mirage's mouth component was pressed into a thin line but he didn't try to interrupt and the white helo could see the words slowly sinking into his processor. "Are you going to accept that things can't be changed and move on, find some other reason to live? Or are you going to do what you can to bring that past back and take action? You'll never find a place where you belong if you don't act- old or new."

Oddly elegant for a mech that didn't like dealing with strangers, Scoop slid his optics to Mirage to see what the once noble 'bot had to say to it.

He stayed quiet for a long moment, visibly turned the ideas around in his head. Then he looked down at his hand and the cleaning pad still held in it. Then- maybe because he had nothing else to do, maybe because it was doing what he could with what he had –he braced himself on one hand and began cleaning the red panel until it glistened. Scoop smiled and Whirl's optic glowed in approval and the three bent on their task, occasionally talking until they were called inside for takeoff.

* * *

Flamingmarsh: You know things are bad when you have to even CONSIDER an option like that. 

Jason: This chapter answer your question:3

Khareesa: These little snap shots make it so much easier to crank out than chapter stories, I think. For me, anyway.

Dragon: Just proves I watch too much One Piece, I think. "A country is it's people!" Though it is so very true.

Azure: I wonder if I can pester IDW about solicitation rights as I think you're the third person I've convinced to buy their comics from this XD

Phoenix: I know Ultra Magnus was their leader in DW's G1 series (at least at one point). He was supposed to help the Wreckers with a plan in the UK comics, but I don't think he was ever actually part of it. Impactor appointed Springer the new leader just before he died (protecting Emirate Xaaron). I don't think Magnus would've been as much fun of a leader as Springer anyway XD

Veglma: Absolutely not, but it does put threat of Sunny on him.

Silveriss: Hope you had a happy New Year, too! Glad I help to end your year well!

Tomorrow: In Stormbringer Razorclaw said outright that nuking Cybertron was a last resort. I'll be that issue really shook up a lot of 'bots.

Hellsfirescythe: Thank you! Those two are so confidant and no-nonsense and cold about some things it's almost scary.

Dragowolf: My move actually went rather well. A couple of hiccups, but nothing at all very major.


	101. Request: Ironhide and Wreckers

What's Wrong with a Little Destruction?  
The Wreckers

The continuing awesomeness of IDW's top strikeforce!

Note: Requested by Tecuma and Alana. Takes place just before the Autobots head to Earth.

Also Note: I apologize for slow updates. Most of my free time has been eaten up between that monster of a one-shot, the IDW cover competition and my attempts to keep focused on the both of them. After the contest I'll also be spending a week skiing (yay!) and then school starts up again. So I'll be having a full schedule for a good while. Huzzah, I suppose.

* * *

Request: Ironhide and Wreckers 

_"Being ready is not what matters. What matters is winning after you get there."  
-LGen Victor H. Krulak_

"So I'm told this'll be your last security check for a while."

Ironhide nodded as he went through Xantium's security systems, running it through several scenarios and checking response times and procedures. They were reaching the end of the quarterly security check and Springer leaned on the back of the chair Ironhide had set himself in. "Yup. Red Alert will be taking over while I'm gone."

Springer made a face that was reflected back at the Security Chief in the monitor. "Good times ahead, I see."

"Try not to fritz him, will ya? He's a good kid."

"He's become almost as much a tight aft as Prowl."

"They're still both good kids."

"And utter pricks. Except on the rare occasion- you know –when the stars are in alignment and the mystical forces in the universe gain enough power to loosen up their overclocked anal subroutines."

Ironhide smirked to himself.

"So what kind of mission is it? If you can talk about it."

"Going planetside."

Springer whistled. "Been a while for you, hasn't it? Wheeljack said he's going planetside, too. Heard the same about Ratchet and Prowl."

That made Ironhide stop and look at him. "Where'd you hear that?"

"Ratchet's been phasing everything on to First Aid- everyone knows he's going somewhere."

"And Prowl?"

Springer just grinned. "That I figured out on my own. For once he's been delegating his workload to other officers instead of doing it all himself. Yet he still has plenty of pressing matters to deal with meaning he's busy with logistics for a mission. And judging by how much he _is_ pushing off, it looks like it'll be a long one."

Ironhide sighed to himself, shaking his head. It was damn hard keeping information from other Autobots, especially Wreckers- they always managed to get all sorts of information they shouldn't be.

"Rather surprising to have three officers of such high rank leaving at the same time."

"All officers are cleared for deployment."

"Yeah, but this coincidence talks about something a little bigger than mere coincidence." Came the pointed remark. Ironhide paused in his checking.

He very nearly wanted to explain to Springer what it was they were expecting to be up against, Springer could keep his mouth component shut, even around his own 'bots. He almost wanted to say how they received information on the Decepticon's turning their sights on a resource-rich planet inhabited with a primitively technological organic society. He almost wanted to say that they found out Starscream was going to be leading that detachment- and wherever he went Skywarp and Thundercracker went, all three alone were a hassle, but together they were a challenge even for the hardest Autobot veteran. On top of that there were also talks about one triplechanger possibly being sent out as well. So while sending out three ranked officers on a mission might seem odd, it was a safety precaution.

But the moment passed when Ironhide suddenly pointed off to the side and said sternly, "Whatever you're trying to do, knock it off."

There was a pause, then Scoop's disembodied voice said, "Okay, Mirage's cloak and scrambler obviously works in tandem with some internal function."

Springer was impressed, he barely noticed the presence until Ironhide pointed it out. "How do you always do that?"

The older mech shrugged, going back to the finish up the security check. "Stay in this business long enough you develop a sense for it."

* * *

Shirozora: Yeah, ffn was being a real pain for me that day, too. Hope you're still reading now that it's back up? (though if you're starting from the beginning, depending on the time you have it may take you a while to read this response...) 

Tecuma: Oh no- no one was hurt in the accident I hope! D:

Veglma: Thanks!

Jason: Topspin would probably traumatize him XD

Dragowolf: Yeah, the 'special chapter' is going to be a separate thing from this. Technically still takes place in the same continuity but it won't be placed under this title.

Flamingmarsh: Thank you very much! I know what you mean, though. I don't really consider any one place my 'home' (i tend to think of myself floating around from place to place) but I can't imagine at all my home being utterly destroyed like that.

Guess: Aida, huh? Sounds interesting, I've never heard of it before.

Azure: Whirl is a jerk. He's the jerkiest of the bunch, if you ask me. To be honest though, I tack it up to the fact that I don't have a Mirage or anyone Mirage-like in my head. I know a couple characters similar to him and I've just never been able to pick up their voices. Which sucks because I think he's fairly interesting, I just can't seem to get him to click with me.

Silveriss: It's very similar to my own, too. Even if it's a place I don't like, you gotta make it as much of a home as you can until you find something better.

Azzi: Thanks!

Contia Mirian: He probably did it by doing something stupid, he won't tell me XD

CoraxOnyx: Man, I could go on and on about each member for a looooong time and I haven't even really gotten into BACKSTORY with any of them (and only a couple i have yet to get a fully developed one for). Thank you for the review, you and everyone else really flatter me, you know that? X3


	102. Request: Prowl and Springer II

What's Wrong with a Little Destruction?  
The Wreckers

The continuing awesomeness of IDW's top strikeforce!

Note: Requested by Hunting Osprey. Takes place after Prowl versus Springer II.

Also Note: I'm afraid I won't be taking any more requests. I still have a whole list to do and while this has been fun, I'm afraid this sucker is going to have to end as some point. Even if that point is going to be... sometime in the next month or two. Most of the requests I've been getting recently I already have on my 'to do' list anyway XD

* * *

Request: Prowl and Springer II 

_"It is not disbelief that is dangerous to our society; it is belief."  
-George Bernard Shaw_

In most cases the sudden lack of tension and it's passive-aggressive counterpart would be a good thing as it meant less tension all around. However this particular lack of it served to make everyone else wary and worried and a little frightened as to what it could suddenly imply.

Despite all the arguing they've been doing since the Wreckers' arrival, Prowl and Springer's attitudes towards each other had gone inexplicably to neutral. Even- dare anyone actually say it –friendly. That is, friendly considering the two mechs involved and their history together. They didn't snip at each other, they didn't give any veiled insults, when they spoke it was in generally bland tones as if they had no care for the other in either a positive or negative light. Sometimes, though, the _especially_ frightening times had the two snarking at each other in an almost friendly way. When they bantered Springer would have a smirk on his face and Prowl had actually cracked a joke or two. In front other personnel.

It had gotten so strange and surreal that someone actually had to voice the concern: "You don't think they actually _did_ overload each other, do you?"

At first that got resounding, disbelieving 'hell no's but as time passed by they began to think that maybe it actually did happen.

"No way." Hot Rod muttered as he paced. "No fragging way. They practically _hate_ each other!"

"I wouldn't go that far." Roadbuster wilted under the heat of Hot Rod's glare. "Well, I wouldn't." He defended.

Jazz came to his defense. "Sure they argue, but that doesn't mean they hate each other."

"Yeah- I'm sure _you're_ enjoying this!" The red mech snapped.

"Aw, are you jealous, Roddy?"

"Why don't you shut up?"

"We could just ask?" Scoop suggested tentatively.

"We can't do _that_, that would be intelligent!"

"Besides, it's more fun watching Hot Rod get himself worked up about this."

The mech in question growled low as Whirl and Sandstorm cackled at him. "Frag you two!" He snarled. "Fine! I'll ask!" Even if he was actually a little afraid to find out what the answer was, but Hot Rod stomped off regardless. The other mechs exchanged glances (and grins) and followed after him.

As he neared the command deck, however, Hot Rod started slowing down- at first subconsciously and then to an obviously hesitant pace. It's not like it would be the first time anyone in their triad had ever messed around with someone else- the vast amount of time and distances separating them sometimes needed someone's- _anyone's_ –touch to ease. But if it really happened, if it did… why didn't Springer tell him? Did he not think Hot Rod would understand? Well, yeah- he probably wouldn't considering it was _Prowl_ but that didn't mean it wasn't something he should know about!

By the time the doors to the command deck opened the rest of the group had caught up to him and for a brief moment Hot Rod had a flash of panic- what if the two were alone up here? What if they were going to catch them in the act? He wouldn't have walked through if it weren't for Jazz's comforting hand against his shoulder component.

There were no sordid activities going on when they entered, nor were Prowl and Springer alone. Nightbeat was there as well as- surprisingly –Jimmy. All four were clustered around one monitor and Prowl and Springer seemed to be (thank Primus) arguing.

"It is perfectly valid and when utilized properly is a devastating offensive tactic."

"Okay, I'll admit- I you'd /I be able to pull it off. But you're also a total freak of programming, which most others aren't. With the sort of defensive lines they have now most can't read it that fast or accurately."

"It isn't hardly that difficult. One just needs to know their opponent."

The other Autobots boggled. "Did you track the Decepticons' movement?"

That made all four heads swing around at them- surprised and turning more than a little sheepish.

"Ah… no." Nightbeat admitted with a little grin.

Jimmy gave a helpless kind of shrug, a 'please don't get mad' smile on his face. "We were talking about football."

"Football?" They all looked confused. Then Jazz shot Prowl a bewildered look. "You like football?"

Prowl twitched, then crossed his arms defensively. "It's a surprisingly strategic game."

"Prowl thinks the Run 'n Gun is still capable of being used above the collegiate level and he doesn't believe me when I tell him the professional defensive strategy is way too complex for a human quarterback to understand and counter before the snap." Springer said.

"Please." If Autobots could roll their optics, Jimmy was certain the tactician would have. "These teams fall into such simple patterns I'm surprised at how they _can't_ be read."

"I stand by my earlier statement that you're a freak."

The expressions on the other Autobots were growing more and more stunned as they heard them interact. This… this was nothing of the norm they had become accustomed to. It made Hot Rod blurt out, "Are you sparking each other off?"

Two sets of optics went wide. Then they exchanged glances. Then, very slowly, the corners of their mouths twitched upward. And then Springer was _laughing_ of all things and even Prowl was ducking his head, trying to hide the fact he was, too.

"Now, Roddy," Springer purred between snickers, "is the concept so alien to you? Prowl is a perfectly functioning mech, after all."

"And Springer is fully capable of dealing with any needs brought to his attention." There was an underlying wickedness to Prowl's otherwise serene expression.

Mouth components fell open all around the room, some expressions mildly horrified, others completely stunned- as if they had fallen into some Bizarro World. Hot Rod himself didn't know if he should be hurt, offended or off-put (Jazz actually seemed fairly intrigued by the notion, not that much attention was being paid to him at that moment). He drew in air to say something, saw Springer's grin grow just a little bit wider and then snapped. "You _slaghead_!" He punched the triplechanger in the arm. "I actually believed you for a klick!"

"Sorry, sorry!" He couldn't help cackling. "But the looks on your faceplates!"

"That was terrible!" Scoop piped up.

Whirl snerked, shaking his head. "That was great."

Hot Rod was still a little confused. "Then… what got you to stop fighting so much?"

Prowl and Springer exchanged glances again, this time followed by shrugs. "It's not that arguing is all we do."

"Absolutely not."

"We just have different points of view."

"And over time those issues build up."

Springer spread his hands. "Once those get out of the way, well, that's not really anything to fight about then, is there?"

Confusion was still running supreme. "Then… what Verity said about…"

"About our arguments inevitably resulting in physical action of some sorts?" Humor was creeping into Prowl's tone in almost dangerous proportions. "Hardly. Though the suggestion did warrant our taking the time to actually realize whatever disagreements we were having was utterly pointless on both our parts."

"As fun as they can be," Springer added, "that doesn't mean we want to fight _all_ the time."

"This has actually come as a bit of a disappointment." Sandstorm told Whirl. The helo nodded.

"Guess this means no Montel special, huh?"

Springer waved at them, moving his Wreckers off the command deck. "Alright, alright. Sorry you were freaked out or disappointed. Anyway, we got to prepare to bag ourselves a six-changer."

Once the deck was emptied save for Prowl, Nightbeat, Jimmy and Jazz the tactician gave the other black and white mech a measured look as the latter tilted his head in consideration. "Dare I ask what it is you're thinking about?"

"You and Springer." Jazz said simply, tapping the side of his jaw. "It'd actually be kinda hot. Turns _my_ engine."

Ignoring Nightbeat's spluttered laughter, Prowl twitched, disturbed. "Jazz."

"What?"

"Do not lock up my logic functions."

* * *

I'm running out the door to get to work so no replies today, but thank you all for the reviews! 


	103. Request: Humans and Wreckers II

What's Wrong with a Little Destruction?  
The Wreckers

The continuing awesomeness of IDW's top strikeforce!

Note: Requested by Alana. I'm of the school of thought that TFs are genderless. Therefore I had to rationalize the existence of femmes. And now I'm off for five days of snow, mountains and no internet. That's almost a whoo-hoo. Maybe just a woo.

* * *

Request: Humans and Wreckers II

_"It's a culture shock. We're different. We don't even talk right. Of course we can't understand them either."  
-Sally Smith_

Jimmy and Verity were hardly considered anything like captives. Sure they had a box they stayed in but it was mainly for their own safety than anything else. They were allowed out and it was most preferred they had a 'chaperone' of sorts to watch out for them. Bumblebee had taken the two of them to the common room where the teens had themselves a soda and some snacks and the Autobots nursed themselves some energon.

Asides from Bumblebee there were Jazz and the Wreckers, just kicking back and talking. Jimmy was enthralled in a story Topspin was telling about some of their zanier adventures when Verity had to break in:

"Is that normal?"

The Autobots looked down at her, then to where she was pointing. Hot Rod and Springer were lounging on a couch, watching something on the monitor with one of Springer's arms slung over Hot Rod's shoulder and the latter tracing some unconscious design over his wrist as he lay against his side. Verity got a lot of shrugs. "Yeah, pretty much."

"Are they… um," she had problems trying to pin the word to giant alien robots so Jazz finished the question for her.

"Gay? No."

"Oh, okay." She felt a little silly for asking it. "They just seem really… close. Like partners or something."

"Nah," the black and white said, "they're part of a threesome."

The humans looked at Jazz with bugging eyes. "Say what?"

"Wait, wait," Jimmy put a hand to his head, "you can have sex?"

"Sex is a procreative activity." Whirl chimed in. "We're genderless beings incapable of reproducing the way you can."

"But… you refer to yourselves as males."

"It is your society's prerogative as a patriarchal culture that deems our shape and behavior as male. Our language does not contain gender pronouns."

"So do you have any 'bots that we'd consider females?" Verity elbowed Jimmy in the side. "Ow, what? It's a question!"

"Technophile."

The mechs looked at each other and the humans got the distinct feeling there was a conversation going that they couldn't hear.

Topspin- being the most familiar with physiology of both the Cybertronian and a fair number of organic kinds –was elected spokesbot and he leaned forward towards the humans a bit. "I suppose the best way to explain requires going into how we're built. You can tell just by looking around we're all built with different purposes in mind- air, ground, marine, deep space, underground, etc and those are further broken down in regards to strength, speed, capacity, whatnot. It's kind of similar in the way your scientific catalogue places each species of animals into families and genus and the like. Follow?"

Given an analogue they were familiar with for comparison, the two nodded. "One of the biggest divisions," Topspin continued, "is the way our cranial units are created. When you compare a 'bot that's made to carry shipments of supplies to one that's created to be an engineer, obviously the things their heads are programmed with are going to be different. There are two categories for these, which organics tend to translate loosely as 'mechs' and 'femmes'.

"Mechs- which is what all of us are –are created for the sole purpose of doing strenuous activity. We're created for defensive purposes, construction, long term travel, anything that needs more power than intelligence, basically.

"Femmes, as opposed to mechs who can come in all sorts of sizes, are generally have similar builds. They were built for more intellectual pursuits like medicine, science, business and government. They're smaller, physically weaker, have higher processing functions and because of their less active purposes are more energy efficient and required far less maintenance than mechs. These weren't exclusive jobs of course," Topspin added, "lots of job fields had both mechs and femmes working together."

"I hear a 'but' somewhere in there." Jimmy said.

"You got that right." Jazz threw in. "When the war broke out, fighting came up everywhere and we were losing femmes left and right in far higher numbers than mechs."

"Their deaths were just as systematic as they were accidental." Roadbuster added. "Megatron knew the Autobots had a large number of femmes that worked logistics and engineering and even though they were part of the Security Force, they weren't upgraded to withstand any heaving fighting. The personnel we lost because of the lack of foresight was crippling and most of our advancements were lost because of it. Many civilian femmes were heads of businesses and trades and with them gone, our economy was at a standstill."

The mood around the table had gone solemn and Jimmy sort of regretted asking anything now. "There are some that survived." Jazz continued. "Not a lot and since the war all the 'bots that were created have been mechs. Some femmes underwent a transplantation process in which their cranial units were transferred to more powerful mech bodies. At first it seemed like a great idea, until we realized the larger the bodies the less effective the transplants were. Wheeljack's as large as they can effectively get."

Their jaws dropped. "Wheeljack was a femme?" They tried to imagine it, a smaller, less broad Wheeljack. Verity's imagination popped up with Wheeljack's head on Jessica Rabbit's body and she immediately hated herself so much for it.

"Yup. And still blew himself up all the time tinkering with stuff back then. Actually Bee used to be a femme, too." Jazz pointed at the little 'bot in question.

"Heehee, yeah." He rubbed one of the horns on his helmet sheepishly. "It actually wasn't intentional. I was still a scout back then and nearly got slagged in an attack. But the Autobots needed the information I was carrying so they had to do an emergency transplant without my consent." Bumblebee smiled brightly. "Not that I mind- I _like_ being alive and asides from being a lot thicker, this isn't all that much different from my original body."

Verity looked back up at the older 'bots. "So there's no more femmes left, then?"

"Oh, no. There are." Topspin nodded towards Hot Rod and Springer. "Their last member is an unaltered femme. The few that are still remaining are some of the shrewdest, merciless fighters we have. They have to be- they know they're far more vulnerable than mechs and they'll make anyone that doubts their ability eat their words in the most humiliating ways possible."

Whirl and Roadbuster nudged Sandstorm with sly looks. He glared flatly. "Yeah, yeah- shut up."

"So does anyone have a picture of her?" Verity asked. "I mean- we have no idea what one looks like."

"Yeah, I got one." Jazz held a forearm out, a small panel retracting and monitor popping up. The screen flickered and three images came on: a profile and front view of a graceful white face next to a full body shot of something pink, white and far more slender than any of the other Autobots the two teens have seen yet. There were strange characters somewhat like writing scrawling next to the images- probably a bio or something. "That's Arcee. She's part of our intelligence network, field operative and one helluva spitfire."

There was a long pause before Verity rolled her eyes. "Is pink the universal color for girls? Sheesh!"

That got a lot of confused looks. "What is it with humans and their need to place a gender on everything?" Whirl asked with a bit more annoyance than actual curiosity. "A color does not need a gender, it can't reproduce and has no mannerism that can place it as being more masculine or feminine."

"It's traditionally associated with girls."

"And? Yellow is also traditionally associated with the females in your culture as well, isn't it? Did any of you consider Sunstreaker to be 'female'? You were shocked that Bumblebee would've been considered the 'female' of our species."

Verity opened her mouth for a rebuttal but couldn't come up with a response. Jimmy looked at her with a shrug. "Well, he got us there."

"Okay, okay- I'll relent on that. But does your kind normally have threesomes?"

Wide grins met that question. "We can have as many as we want." Jazz said with a bit of a leer. "We're not a monogamous race. Even 'bots in a serious relationship like Hot Rod and Springer can still mess around with another consenting 'bot- all that matters is that no one gets hurt by it. I'd say you could consider us an orgiastic society but your culture tends to take that in a negative view while we consider it anything but."

"For us it's more about emotional attachment than anything else." Scoop piped in. "We have several different words for 'love', 'affection' and 'bonding' in our language. Even though your language is fairly flexible, we still find it very constricting when we try to communicate our relationships toward each other."

Jimmy shook his head and leaned back. "This entire robot sex discussion is weirding me out on a subconscious level. Once it really sinks in that we're talking about it, I'm probably gonna freak."

"They still trying to explain our social structure to them?" Hot Rod asked Springer over a tight link.

"Yup." Came the reply on the same link.

"You think they realize we can hear them?"

"The humans, probably not. The others most definitely."

They continued to sprawl against each other, amused at the adolescents trying not to look like they were watching the two of them. "Hey." Hot Rod gave Springer's hand a soft tug, still on the internal communications. "I have an idea- play along."

Springer didn't move as Hot Rod sat up and leaned in close. The chattering around them stopped at the movement and it took some maneuvering and tilting his head awkwardly to get the angles of their helmets just right, but Hot Rod managed to press his mouth component against Springer's. The triplechanger's hand came up to his arm to keep him balanced but it was a quick move- just longer than a peck, really –before the red mech pulled back and settled against his side again.

In the background Jimmy was coughing violently while Verity debated if she should be pounding his back or disgusted at the soda that was spewed across the table. The Wreckers looked confused at the action while Jazz and Bumblebee howled with laughter.

"Hey." Springer jostled Hot Rod slightly. "What was that?"

"Some human display of affection. Called a kiss."

Jimmy finally got his choking down to a few random hacks between murmurs of 'oh God- brain bleach'.

"Kiss, huh?" Springer looked back at the monitor, rolling the idea and memory of the sensation around in his processor. "Not impressed."

* * *

Man, I seem to be cutting these responses more and more often, I'm sorry D:

To everyone in general: I'm glad you all enjoyed that last chapter and I apologize for any snot-water, choking hazards, side-splitting and asses falling off in response to it. Though not enough to not attempt it later XD

Dragowolf: I'm considering restarting a series I was actually planning out long before this that delves more in the Springer-Prowl dynamic. Still not sure if I'm going to, but it's still a thought. And there's still You and I Collide I'll be working on, too.

Lodelco: I know, IDW!Prowl doesn't seem like he'd laugh at anything but... it just seemed to work in that chapter some how. I guess all the yelling at Springer was some much needed stress relief for him?

VAWitch: Actually that last exchange between Jazz and Prowl I wasn't planning on at first. About a day after I wrote it, I opened it back up and it just wanted to come out. Because he absolutely would imagine it XD

ArmoredSoul: Welcome to the long list of drabbles where every chapter is an guaranteed to amuse, wibble, sadden or just offend. Guarantee not guaranteed.


	104. Request: Wheelie and Wreckers

What's Wrong with a Little Destruction?  
The Wreckers

The continuing awesomeness of IDW's top strikeforce!

Note: Requested by Veglma. Because there's no room for 'child transformers' in my version of their 'birth', I've regulated him to just plain minibot. And sorry for such a long wait for this. Between getting back from vacation, having the worst school schedule I can imagine and troubling real life issues, things are going to be slow from here on out. Hopefully the length of this one makes up for the delay.

* * *

Request: Wheelie and Wreckers 

_"It is not the strongest of the species that survives, nor the most intelligent that survives. It is the one that is the most adaptable to change."  
-Charles Darwin_

What an utter and desolate dump and the Wrecker had to pick through the wreckage to a downed what-was-left-of-a-ship's broken husk. They were supposed to pull out someone from the mess (if the distress beacon was anything to go off of) but after the Decepticon attack that downed it in the first place, the crash landing through an electrical storm and a meteorite shower that kept the Wreckers from getting in any quicker they highly doubted anything was still alive in there. But Optimus Prime was adamant and said if anyone could survive all that, it would be the 'bot they were supposed to be rescuing. A survival specialist. 

The Wrecker didn't really know why they needed a survival specialist, but whatever.

Because of the size of the ship and the dangers on the temperamental planetoid the four smallest of the team (it was a tight enough fit for them as it was) were sent down while the rest stayed on board Xantium and monitored for any other potential hazards, natural or Decepticon.

They went in on the northeast and southeast ends, Springer and Twin Twist on one team and Topspin and Scoop in the other, keeping in constant contact as they swept through the shuttle in a line. It was a basic sweep, clearing each room and passage until they hit the bridge where the signal originated. No one was there.

With the jumpstarters watching the hall, Springer and Scoop disabled the beacon. "There's no one here." Scoop said with annoyed certainty. "It's pointless to keep searching." And the tight corners were scrapping paint off his shovel.

But Springer shook his head. "We clear the entire ship. This 'bot had no idea if Autobots or Decepticons would get here first, of course they wouldn't be out in the open until they knew who they were dealing with."

Scoop knew he could argue all he wanted, but all it would do was annoy the triplechanger. He had a mindset, after all, and once it got on a particular path- especially pertaining to saving someone –it was near impossible to change his mind. The only ones Scoop had ever known to get him off the track was Kup and just once Roadbuster.

"Alright." He sucked air through his vents and already he could feel the teeth of his shovel hitting more walls. "Let's get this over with." So the quartet split again and continued the sweep through the last half of the ship.

Where things started to get weird.

Twin Twist was the first to notice. He had explained earlier when they were going through rough patches in the comm link-ups that the meteorites that had hit had a high concentration of electromagnetic minerals, compounded by the storm and impact, they were generating a low electrical charge. They realized as they moved deeper in to the ship that not only were there meteorites that had crashed inside the vessel, but it was getting difficult for the two teams to keep in contact- forget about trying to call Xantium.

Twin Twist explained to Springer- after contact with the second team dropped yet again –that this strong of an electromagnetic interference from these particular make-up of meteorites was not natural.

Springer didn't like the sound of that. "So you're saying someone deliberately set this up?"

"Yeah. Disrupting communication and sensor readings puts any potential survivor on even footing with a potentially dangerous visitor."

"And there's no chance these just happened to fall in here and gotten a bigger charge?"

"Nope." And who else would know better on how rocks fell than a miner? "If this is really Prime's survivalist, they know what they're doing."

The triplechanger stood a safe distance from the rocks, not certain (and not wanting to test) just what that kind of charge would do with direct contact. Nor did he ask Twin Twist if it was possible to break up that interference by destroying the meteorites with his drills. If it was, he would've mentioned it already.

Instead, Twin Twist just went on saying, "Whoever did this was either grounded or has good internal insulation. I can't say what exactly would happen to us if we got too close without the equipment to scan this but- AAAH! Frag!"

Springer jumped back as Twin Twist spun around, wincing and growling. "What?" His arm blasters came up as he visually scanned the area for anything of place, "what is it?"

"Something just drilled me in the Primus fragging aft!"

Springer didn't drop his arms until he was satisfied that whatever it was- if it was indeed there at all –had made itself scarce. He gave Twin Twist a look. "….are you okay?" The phantom of a twitch pulled at the corner of his lips.

Twin Twist glared at him. "Yeah, I'm wonderful."

"Let's just get back to-"

"Wait… what's burning?"

* * *

On the other side of the ship Scoop was beginning to get nervous about not being in contact with the other team. "I think we should head back."

"C'mon, Scoop!" Because his stabilizers were so wide, Topspin had to resort to sidling along the hall sideways most of the time. "Don't tell me you're scared."

"I'm not scared!" He retorted hotly. "I'm just being cautious!"

The medic flashed a humoring, partly strained grin at him. "Of course. After all, you were the one adamant about no one being here- alive, anyway –so what would be there to fear?"

"It's not fear." Scoop muttered to himself. Any good security oriented 'bot developed a sense for when something wasn't right. Most considered the lot of them to be just this side of delusional paranoia (usually citing Red Alert as an extreme example) but that 'paranoia' was what made them so efficient. So really, it wasn't paranoia if they were right, right?

Usually the Wreckers took heed of those nagging feelings of Scoop's but Topsin hadn't had the best day, himself. He wasn't too happy going down to this planetoid (it wasn't exciting, just desolate) and was banging himself into walls and occasionally ceiling, was reading nothing but static on various channels and scans, was listening to the normally exuberant Scoop complain the entire time and they _still_ found nothing. He was ready to call this search quits but knew Springer wouldn't have gone for it.

So when Topspin groaned and snapped, "Come off it, Scoop! You've been a downer since we set foot on this stupid ship!" it was because his good humored patience finally snapped.

"Well excuse me!" The digger snapped back. "But there's something not right about this entire thing and it's been getting more not right the further in we go!"

Topspin stopped and looked at Scoop (because he couldn't turn around dramatically in these Primus fragging confined halls) and was about to say something not exactly friendly except it ended up turning into an undignified squawk. A sentiment echoed by Scoop as the floor suddenly fell out from under them.

They hit the bottom in a soppy mess which tasted bitter and acidic and absolutely disgusting and smelled about five times worse and was almost like… like…

"Pleh!" Topspin floundered, trying to keep his head above mystery liquid level. "Primus- please don't tell me we fell into a waste containment cell!"

Scoop was already scrabbling at the smooth walls. "That's it! I want out of this mission! It's like liquid death down here!"

With the orange mech's flailing splashing discolored liquid everywhere (it filled his shovel, making it difficult for him to keep his head up) including Topspin's mouth, the jumpstarted grabbed at his arms, manhandling him until Topspin could hold him off to one side and started up his fans. They churned up the fluids almost like it were boiling. In robot mode they weren't near powerful enough for him to hover, but at least he could deflect them downwards to keep him and Scoop bobbing with little effort.

Now that something exciting (not to mention revolting) had happened the two Wreckers regathered their wits and tried to figure out what they were partly floating in and how to get out it.

"Frag me." Topspin muttered on a tight link, fans and roiling liquid too loud to be heard over. The results of the scan of said liquid scrolled across his HUD and came up with an unpleasant answer. "We're in the _corrosive_ waste containment cell. We gotta get out of here!" Already there were initial warning signs going off as the liquid got into joints and weak points of their armor. So long as it couldn't get inside the isolated and delicate internals they were in no immediate danger, but if left there long enough the corrosives would eventually eat through.

With low expectations, Topspin tried to contact their other teammates and got nothing but static. "Do you have a tow cable?" He asked Scoop. Even with their close proximity there was still a bit of interference over their comm.

"Yeah." Scoop replied, forcing himself to remain still and trusting Topspin to keep them afloat. "But there was nothing up there to hook it onto."

They stewed silently for a moment, both running various scenarios in their processors and trying to figure a way out. Eventually they both came to the same conclusion.

"We're going to have to wait for Springer and Twist."

"If they don't get caught in some other trap themselves." There wouldn't be enough room for Springer's blades to stretch, let alone rotate and could Twin Twist's drills work under water? Would the corrosive be too damaging for the delicate inner mechanisms? Topspin knew the former miner was protected from debris and dirt jamming his drills up, but did it work the same for fluids?

"Hey," Scoop put a hand to a white shoulder component. "I think I hear something." Topspin cut back on his fans, going from roaring to a loud growl. They sank until the liquid was splashing against their chins.

They heard the rhythmic thumping first and it got louder and thrummed harder along the small ship each time. Then they heard the yelling. More like the echoes of yelling that faded out and in until it wove into the voice (voices?) itself. They couldn't make out what was being said or where it was coming from but whoever it was was getting closer.

Without a word, with barely even a look, the two Wreckers moved back to back and stretched their legs out to brace against the wall. Scoop's shovel kept Topspin from looking up too much but it gave them the extra yards needed to keep them stationary as Topspin cut off his fans. They kept as quiet and still as possible, straining to make sense of things. Almost at the same time they realized that it was-

"WAAAGH!"

"Slagging Pit!"

Topspin and Scoops' terrified 'ARGH!'s ended up in a gurgle as something heavy and large slammed them under the murky surface. In a sort of controlled panic Topspin grabbed for flailing limbs, kicked his fans on at full force and shot his head and most of his upper torso out of the corrosives. Scoop gasped beside him, clinging gratefully to the arm. In Topspin's other hand he held Twin Twist's foot. It took a bit of a struggle but they managed to get the driller upright and he flailed, choking out a litany of "owowowowowowow!"

"Scoop? Spin?" They looked up to find Springer peering over the edge of the hole at them. "Are you two okay?" He had nearly fallen in himself, chasing after a wildly panicking Twin Twist. In the split moment between realizing Twin Twist was falling, that he was about to fall himself and the actual act of falling, Springer had activated his leg thrusters, leaping over the empty space and nearly crashing into a wall at the same time.

Twin Twist's rising vocals covered up any reply. "Primus fragging hell- what is this stuff- argh it fragging _hurts_! Springer! Get me outta here!"

Topspin fumbled with the other jumpstarter, trying to pin his arms down. "It's just a mild corrosive- it shouldn't affect you that badly unless there's a crack in your armor!"

They heard Springer above them go, "uh-oh."

_That_ didn't need any clarification. "Scoop!"

He already had the tow cable out and Springer braced himself, ready to catch it. "Here we go!"

It was awkward trying to throw while floating and clutching someone, but Scoop managed it well enough and the triplechanger grabbed hold, moved back, planted his feet and said, "Send 'im up!"

It was fairly quick work getting all three out of the pit and as Topspin looked Twin Twist over, Springer explain how something hat hit him in the aft and then started burning through his armor. "Highly concentrated corrosive." Topspin announced quickly. "Whoever it was must've dried out one of the other containment cells, packed the waste together to form a rudimentary projectile and- bam."

"It huuuuuurts," Twin Twist writhed- or tried to, Topspin had to hold him still to get a diagnosis. "Make it stop!"

"I'd like to, but I'm covered in the stuff, too. My med supplies are contaminated with it."

"Springer- let's just go. Whoever is here obviously doesn't want to be found and they've got this entire placed rigged up and- oh."

Three sets of optics looked at Scoop. Then to whatever it was that caught his attention.

It was a minibot with a primitive projectile type weapon. It looked to be loaded with more of that corrosive munition.

Slowly Springer turned and raised his hands up passively. The others followed his example, knowing they'd find an opportunity to turn the tables sooner or later.

"Excuse me," Springer said as diplomatically as someone getting held up by a slingshot could, "we were sent to look for someone. A survival specialist." The minibot made no move. "Prime asked us to find and secure a 'bot name Wheelie." Still he didn't move. Springer looked over at his team, shifted uncomfortably and so did not want to say this- especially in front of them. "I was sent," he said heavily, embarrassed just at recalling the words, "with a message from Prime. If we want your help," he felt so stupid, "we should give you a rhyme." He felt three identical looks of 'what the hell' on his back.

But the minibot lowered his weapon with a wide smile. "I can't believe Prime actually got someone to do that!"

Springer twitched. "What?"

The smaller mech bounced on his feet happily, ignoring the angry look. "Well, I'm Wheelie- your specialist. This rock isn't too bad a place but it's really boring so hurry up! Let's get going!" He moved to lead the way out, stopped and then smirked at Springer. "Your rhyming scheme really sucks, by the way." Smothering a cackle to himself, Wheelie went off in high spirits.

Springer looked back at his team and said, "Not a word of this to anyone. We hit a compromised deck and you three fell in. We didn't get trapped and outsmarted by a minibot with a slingshot and I did not rhyme a damn thing. If Wheelie says otherwise, the electromagnetic buildup that was playing havoc with our comms mixed up some of his circuits and Topspin will keep him in medbay until we reach the Hub for observation and care. Clear?"

None of the other three were in a particular hurry to advertise their humiliation. Especially to the other Wreckers who would never, _ever_ let them live it down. "Clear." The lot of them awkwardly made their way out of the ship and looked forward to a long, long soak.

* * *

Rachael and ArmoredSoul: Welcome to the fun and getting caught up! Thanks for all your comments! 

Guess: Yeah. I've found it frustrating myself that while love is a very flexible term, it's difficult to use to its full potential without having to fully define the context for it.

Tiamat: Haha, yeah. Jazz is... well, very Jazz in that respect XD But if a Springer/Prowl kiss ever happens, I doubt it would come from me. They absolutely refuse no matter the method I attempt.

Silveriss: Pink annoys me to no end, either but I normally tack that up to the fact that I don't like bright or pastel colors. I like mine neutral or dark. But yes- please do write about yours! I like knowing how other people view different aspects of the TF universe. Some of the ideas I've ended up settling on have been influenced by ideas other people have presented. I find it very educational.

VAWitch: I try XD

Ky: HAHAHA! It's very possible Prowl could've been a she at some point X3

Hellsfirescythe: I'm thinking if Jimmy didn't freak, Verity probably would have. Instead her flailing was belayed by her disgust at spewed soda.

Azure: Yeah, I do accept the creation of femmes if the race was created by biological beings that had a use for gender specific 'bots, but otherwise it's... really difficult to make them work without just being WEIRD.

Casus: Well, if you like my explanation better than yours, you're free to use it. Not like I'm going to trademark it or anything.

Flamingmarsh: Unfortunately due to workload and time constraints I'm not taking anymore requests, but if I can fit Blue into any of the (many) prompts I still have left I'll try. I like the little guy.

Kyarorin: There's actually a couple other 'bots I think probably would've been femmes prior to the war, but Jack and Bee are the only ones the humans know so...

Dragowolf: I'm glad you're liking this and Collide! Sometimes I wish I didn't need an actual life so I could just write and draw all day...

Jason: Really? I did not know that. Kinda makes me think I was born in the wrong decade. Blue has been my favorite color for as long as I can remember. Which really annoyed me because my brother was always given blue and I always got pink. I hate pink DX

TammyCat: I like humor, what can I say? And I like learning stuff, too. So might as well mix them together, you know?


	105. Request: Cats and Wreckers

What's Wrong with a Little Destruction?  
The Wreckers

The continuing awesomeness of IDW's top strikeforce!

Note: Requested by Dragon of Dispair. I'm sure this isn't anything like what you had in mind when you prompted but I hope you like it anyway. An inhibitor claw is a security device used to restrain the wearer, disrupting weapons systems and transformation commands.

* * *

Request: Cats and Wreckers

_"Suffering is not a punishment, it is a result."  
-Robert Green Ingersoll_

Springer found his team in the midst of a very important discussion, looking over some newly acquired supplies. Sandstorm sat along the outer edge, watching and snickering to himself and Broadside was nearby, muttering how he couldn't believe they were actually going through with this.

"Alright, alright!" Topspin waved everyone quiet. "Let's make sure we've got everything we need for our new friend!"

Springer nearly choked on that word, but everyone else was grinning insanely wide.

"Whirl- the checklist is you please!"

This had originally been Whirl's idea from the start, but he didn't mind letting Topspin take it and running like he had. Just like Sandstorm and Broadside didn't mind them going over the inventory they had already done when they received the supplies. Besides, this was more so their 'guest' could see just how much care and devotion they had put into keeping him comfortable.

"Litter box."

Scoop held it over his head briefly. "Check!"

"Scratching post."

Twin Twist hefted that up. "Check!"

"Treats."

A large box that sat nearby was patted. "Check!"

"Various string-related toys?"

All the Wreckers held up a toy, the ends bobbing with feathers or bells or something like that. "Check!"

"A hideously designed sweater!"

It was a disturbingly bright color and had an equally disturbing, smiling anthropomorphic face with the words 'Feel Good Kitty' emblazoned on it. This one Roadbuster held up. "Check!"

Springer boggled at him and got a 'meh, it's fun' shrug in return. Springer had no idea where Sandstorm managed to find something like that and imagined it cost a small fortune.

"Bed and blanket."

That was set on the table gleefully. "Check!"

As they continued to rattle off the items, Springer went over to the cell where the company presumed to use all these items was cowering in blank horror. At each item brandished, his tail twitched erratically. Springer craned his neck to ensure the inhibitor claw was still in working order. He felt compelled to say something.

"I'm actually, honestly sorry for you." He told Catilla.

The captured Decepticon looked up at him with glazed over optics. "This is cruel and unusual punishment." The feline mech said, nearly squeaking.

Springer paused to look at his team. They were cackling as they got to the collar with 'Princess' studded in faux-jewelry.

"Yeah." He said lightly. "It really is.

* * *

Long and not particularly fun day at work and I need to eat and get some sleep so I can have an even longer day at school tomorrow... So!

Everyone: Haha, like most of you (it seems) I didn't much like Wheelie at all originally. Until someone (forgot who, exactly) pointed out to me that he survived on his own in Quintesson territory. Which, when you think about it, is a rather hefty feat. Granted his voice and rhyming still got to me now and then, but that bit of insight made him more than bearable to me and I wanted to get that across in this. I'm glad so many of you enjoyed it, I guess that's a mission accomplished for me XD

Tomorrow: I figure that for a group that's programmed to think up every angle and every move made against them/a position/someone/whatever, they probably would have a tendency of being paranoid. Not to say it's really a BAD thing, but it does make for some interesting times!

Dragon: They probably would find out somehow, but it won't be from any of those four.

VAWitch: I couldn't help it. Even if I hated his rhyming, I HAD to put it in there somehow!

Wills: Did you know it took me about a week or so to connect you ffnet name to you after your first review? I felt like such a dork when I finally did.

Guess: More like a corrosive pellet that ate away at metal, but yes. He did get that in the butt.


	106. Request: Protectobots and Wreckers

What's Wrong with a Little Destruction?  
The Wreckers

The continuing awesomeness of IDW's top strikeforce!

Note: Requested by Jason. Entirely speculation, but- as I'm sure I've stated before –both Blades and Whirl were seen in the conference in Megatron Origin. Hopefully this wouldn't be too far off (if anyone deigned to give either of them a history).

* * *

Request: Protectobots and Wreckers

_"If everyone likes you, you must be doing something wrong."  
-Phil Simborg_

Xantium's doors shut quietly as Whirl sauntered in without a single care. Springer followed closely behind him with a weary expression. "I really wish you'd stop provoking him."

Whirl just shrugged his lanky shoulders. "He brings it on himself."

The triplechanger shook his head. He was called down to the Hub's brig to retrieve Whirl after he'd gotten into yet another fight with Blades. Springer didn't know what it was about this time and sometimes he wondered why either of them bothered. It was a strange relationship between the two helos- a weird one-sided rivalry of sorts.

It had started back before the war, when the both of them were stationed in Kaon under Sentinel Prime. Blades had desperately wanted command of Kaon's air force and probably would've done a fair job with them. He had been, in fact, practically guaranteed that position. But something had gotten changed around and that coveted role was instead given to Whirl, regulating Blades to commanding the aerial emergency response wing. Springer didn't know Blades's commanding style but from what he'd seen working with the Protectobots, he'd have to bet that Whirl did a better job than Blades would have.

Not that Blades was bad at organizing or tactics. He was just very… short tempered. Whirl wasn't a well-liked personality, but he was immensely clever and many of his strategies ended up being added to the Autobot aerial doctrine. And as great a pilot Blades was, Springer couldn't think of any other helo as skilled in the air as Whirl was (himself included).

It was simply jealousy that made Blades pick fights with Whirl at any moment. Blades worked his aft off to climb the ranks and be the best, to get the sort of admiration and attention in an otherwise jet dominated field and then Whirl comes from out of no where and steals the spotlight Blades had his optics on from practically activation.

Whirl on the other hand didn't particularly care for Blades either way but hell- he was a Wrecker. If someone was going to offer him a fight, who thinks he'd turn them down?

Springer just wished they could get along like Topspin and First Aid- keeping far away from each other when they could, ignore each other when they couldn't and tried their level best to not toss out thinly veiled statements of distaste. The problem with the two medics wasn't due to any personal history (well, maybe a little) but of personality clash (something Springer knew well himself). First Aid took his oath as a doctor so seriously he refused to train to any sort of weapon while Topspin wouldn't flicker an optic putting a hand through an enemy's chassis.

It was a simple, poorly phrased comment and it could've been attributed to stress/frustration/battle fatigue/whatever but it was said and it caused a permanent rift between two normally very amiable mechs. It wasn't his intention and he felt immeasurably guilty afterwards, but First Aid essentially accused Topspin of being too barbaric to truly be a doctor. Even if he didn't normally act like it, Topspin held great pride for his medical background and being told he wasn't good enough to be a doctor, that he didn't _care_ enough… well, simply put there's no coming back from that.

But at least they didn't get into fights with each other. After the first one, that is, that got so bad the other Protectobots nearly started a scuffle on First Aid's behalf. And all the subsequent squabbles until it became apparent that the two were incapable of working together. But after that, anyway, they got along so long as they didn't have to stay anywhere near each other.

Thank Primus the other members of the two teams had no problems with each other, Springer thought gratefully. Though now he was going to have to issue another apology to Hot Spot on behalf of Whirl and did he ever hate doing that.

At least he wouldn't be the only one doing so, even though Springer liked getting an apology from someone on account of someone else who wasn't apologetic at all even less. But- speak of the devil –Xantium alerted him to Hot Spot already coming up the walkway.

"Go on." He groused at Whirl. "Roadbuster will deal with you for now and don't think I'm done with you yet."

"Sure thing, Chief."

As he watched the helo go down the hall, Springer wondered who he was expected to be kidding. There was only so much one could do to punish habitual troublemakers and he wasn't about to try to curb his Wreckers' aggressive tendencies when that was what they were needed for. Being forced to do menial tasks, busy work, sitting behind while everyone else went out on a less secure port could only do so much. And really- so long as they didn't create a security problem, Springer didn't much care about the kind of trouble his 'bots caused so punishing them for it seemed, well, hypocritical.

Springer turned around and went back through the doors to meet with the Protectobot leader. The two stood partway down the walkway, just staring at each other with a grim line to their lips. What was there to say, really? 'Sorry 'bout Blades, but it's Whirl so he just does it', 'Sorry that Whirl's the same damn way'? They've played this game too many times and knew they'd be playing it too many more, at this point why did they keep bothering?

Hot Spot eventually scrubbed a hand over his face. "Frag this. Let's get a drink."

"I hear ya."

* * *

Tomorrow: I don't know the exact limits, but I know there's rules on psychological warfare. Not certain if that still counts, though XD

Dragowolf: Thanks!

Flamingmarsh and Veglma: Good! That's what I was going for!

Dragon: Oddly enough, I really like RB in that chapter, too. I don't know why. Just imagining him holding up that sweater...

JML: That's why you don't mess with Wreckers XD

Cas: Wow, that's a commitment! I'm actually kind of surprised to hear people getting into Destruction from Collide since it's such a random pairing. I know it's late, but I could give you something to wear? (holds out a sock?)

Guess: Probably all of them. He may be stuck as a cat with no weapons, but he can still fight!

Winteryangel: I'm happy spreading the love! I'm all about fleshing out characters X3


	107. Request: Red Alert and Wreckers II

What's Wrong with a Little Destruction?  
The Wreckers

The continuing awesomeness of IDW's top strikeforce!

Note: Requested by Rialla. As fun as flailing!Red Alert is there's just something so undeniably sexy about someone that's damn good at what they do.

* * *

Request: Red Alert and Wreckers II

_"I think paranoia can be instructive in the right doses. Paranoia is a skill."  
-John Shirley_

It wasn't often that Red Alert led a detachment. Not because he was in anyway incapable of leading one, but certain incidences in the past had given him a fairly unflattering reputation. Many of the high-seated officers knew he was fully capable of sound, rational judgement but there were still others uncertain of it and many of the lower ranks were familiar with the security officer merely on hearsay of the events that gave him a reputation of being paranoid and delusional. He could be trusted as a second, but it was rare for him to be given full command of an outpost like this.

So when he had the opportunity, he did everything in his power to ensure nothing would go wrong. Besides, there was a damn good reason Red Alert ascended to the rank he had and he earned every bit of it and then some, having to deal with the stigma of a few bad reactions. It was why the Wreckers really didn't have a problem with him (asides from his restricting their particular brand of fun) because he worked hard for everything he's ever done.

Like, for example, this detachment he was leading. With his precautionary measures and attention to detail, Red Alert had been holding back the Decepticon subversion team until they had to resort to bringing in reinforcements to overwhelm the small unit.

With the Autobots' frontliners already spread thin, the Wreckers volunteered to go in as back-up. When it became apparent to the Decepticons that they couldn't force their plans forward, they went underground instead and called in for another line of reinforcements to hit the Autobots with a crippling move:

By hacking into Teletraan.

Even with all the firewalls and advance alerts and encrypted locks, they still hadn't realized anyone had gotten in until Teletraan's automated response kicked in, shutting down all but remote access from the command deck and locking Ark down. Red Alert and Scoop pounded frantically at the controls, tossing out strings of hot words and acronyms that left everyone else's heads spinning. Springer had offered to have Xantium's computer linked through to Ark on an isolated network, but Red Alert brushed the suggestion off brusquely, stating there was too great a chance Xantium would get hacked.

"But if Teletraan's remote access only-"

"I know this MO. This is Wingspan's work. Do you really want to chance that?"

Springer stayed quiet after that. Scoop had never gone metaphorically toe-to-toe with the Decepticons' data specialist, but trying to anticipate, stop and fix Wingspan's viral footsteps with the combined help of Red Alert and a sluggish Teletraan made him wince at the idea of him running rampant in Xantium.

Slowly the digger became aware of a low rumbling sound gradually becoming louder and more violent until he realized it was Red Alert growling in frustration. Just as he thought sparks were going to shoot out of the red and white mech's cranial unit, Roadbuster said, "Wingspan knows you methods too well, Red Alert. He knows what you're going to do and how to counter it."

The security officer snarled. "But I'm the only one here with the skills to deal with him! There's no one else with the kind of security encryption knowledge-" abruptly he cut off and swiveled his head at Scoop. "You!"

The sudden calling out made him jump. "What?"

"You're taking lead!"

"B-But- computer security isn't my strong point! I can barely keep up with this 'con as it is, how am I supposed to-"

"Because you're clever," Red Alert stated flatly, "and he doesn't know you."

Hands squeezed the tires on his shoulders and Scoop looked back to see Springer grinning at him. "Wingspan is smart, but no matter how convoluted it may seem, his thought process is still very linear. Shake 'im up good."

Oh yeah. No pressure. Scoop filtered a great whirl of air through his vents and flexed his hands. "Alright, here it goes!" He couldn't attack Wingspan directly- the Decepticon was too smart and knew so much more than Scoop to fall for that. So he did what he did best- set up traps and tripwires, alternating between outright forcing and subtly leading Wingspan into a corner where every access point inevitably looped back to the same place. Once Wingspan was pinned, Red Alert wasted no time in decoding the security network that protected Wingspan from Teletraan's sweeps. Once that had been stripped away, the security programming dismantled all access and forced him from the system.

Scoop's optics recycled as the read out announced the hack had been routed. "I did it." He said, stunned. Then sat back with his hands on his head. "By the primal source, I did it!" The other Wreckers cheered, slapping his shoulders and shaking his shovel. Red Alert didn't celebrate with them, instead his fingers blurred over the keys and he glared at the monitors with intense focus.

"Hey, Red," they asked, "what is it? It's done."

"No." Came the muttered answer. "We missed something. I _know_ we did."

A couple of the Wreckers shifted, as if they were ready to dismiss this as some paranoid fantasy except that Scoop went right back in himself, trying to see what it was that would tip off Red Alert to that.

"I got it!" The red and white mech announced. "Oh, that sly little glitch." His optics narrowed and his engine revved. "He planted a worm- it's corrupting the data on our secondary drive!"

Watching the code move across the screen, making his cranial unit want to simultaneously smoke and watch in awe at how effortlessly complex and graceful it was, Scoop asked, "What do we do?"

As soon as the question left Scoop's vocalizer and the Wreckers turned to him, Red Alert froze, optics distant as he struggled to think.

Then they flashed bright. "All of you! Manually disconnect everything from the secondary drive and shut it all down! Everything but the main terminal! I'm going for direct access!" Before anyone could protest a panel just below Red Alert's wrist slid back and a port connector popped out, fitting into the slot on Teletraan's console. The Wreckers hesitated for a moment more, afraid the worm might get inside Red Alert and Primus only knew what would happen after that. But Springer snapped them all into motion and soon the Ark went into a near blackout.

They stood silent and still in the dim light from the one remaining monitor as it filtered around the security officer. No one dared move.

Until Red Alert flomped backwards in his seat with a shaky expulsion of air. "Got it!" His vocalizer wavered. "It's done."

"What did you do?"

A ghost of a smile flittered over his lips. "Wingspan is a jet. Just like any other aerial-based construct, he hates being grounded."

They stared at him blankly.

"Oh!" Scoop said. "You led it into a Faraday line!"

"Yup." The smile deepened just enough to be obvious. "So long as no one messes with it, it's trapped in there."

The Wrecker's own security officer gaped in awe. "That's… wow- that's ingenious!"

Red Alert shrugged, his modesty breaking through his professionalism just a bit. "It'll still be a hassle getting everything up and running quickly, though. Scoop- I'll need your help rewriting the security for Ark. Hopefully with your touch, Wingspan won't be able to get in again." Then, recalling he technically wasn't Red Alert's to order, he turned to Springer. "Unless you need him for something else."

Springer just smirked in return. "I think he'd get mad if I tried to drag him anywhere else right now." He patted Scoop's shovel. "Abuse him all you like!"

* * *

Wow, that last chapter was the least reviewed since... chapter 72. I guess medic rivalry is unpopular? Or helo rivalry? Because the Protectobots can't be that unloved... Ah well, it's a good thing I'm not one of those writers that needs reviews to keep going :P

Jason: Actually this was a request from loooooong ago. Back from chapter 71. Like I said, I've got a LOT of requests to do

Flamingmarsh: Thanks! I do what I can!

VAWitch: Of course XD

Tomorrow: With the 'bots he's got to watch over? Yup.

Kittona: Welcome to the long-running insanity! Or... welcome when you get to this point, that is...

Contia Mirian: Yup! Of course you have no idea how my imagination has been playing connect-the-dots with the fact Roadbuster and Whirl used to work under Prowl and Prowl and Springer's less than friendly attitudes regarding each other (insert evil cackle here)


	108. Request: Arcee and Wreckers

What's Wrong with a Little Destruction?  
The Wreckers

The continuing awesomeness of IDW's top strikeforce!

Note: Requested by Kyarorin. Set before Well Shagged Wreckers. So finally, after over a hundred chapters, Naughty Wreckers gets cleared of for those of you that didn't know what was going on. Yes. I'm that good. And no, flailure is not a typo. It's for those particularly spectacular times of fail.

* * *

Request: Arcee and Wreckers  
_  
"No one rejoices more in revenge than woman."__  
-Juvenal_

The Wreckers were unloading some cargo they were transporting in one of the Hub's hangars, snickering to themselves and trying to look like they weren't trying to watch their leader fail at making nice with someone. For the last stellar cycle or so the Wreckers hacked into Springer's network and had been sending messages to Arcee that had become increasingly less professional and tasteful until she had finally put a very aggressive and snappish foot down. Springer, of course, knew who exactly to blame for this and was failing in trying to convince the femme that it wasn't his fault.

She was going through inventory for the cargo- some highly sensitive monitoring equipment for intel –and responded to anything Springer said with clipped, business-like tones and completely ignoring him whenever he tried to apologize or explain.

It was almost enough to make the rest of the Wreckers want to keel over laughing seeing their normally so confident and controlled boss being such a… well, such a flailure.

"Do you think," Broadside asked the others on a tightlink, "he'll ever convince Arcee that we were the ones behind those messages?"

"Doubt it." Topspin replied. "She's a proud one and Springer isn't exactly known for being innocent in anyway."

Scoop- who was the one that had hacked into the network (since he had access to the security files) at Whirl and Sandstorm's behest –tried to stifle a laugh as Springer's expression became increasingly desperate and frustrated. A direct correlation to Arcee's which was becoming more and more cold. "We're terrible mechs." It was said with such a wide, wicked grin that he obviously had no problems with this.

"Yes. Yes we are."

Roadbuster shook his head, shooting Springer and Arcee another glance. "He's going to be torqued all to Pit after this." It was rare for Roadbuster to indulge in pranks, but he couldn't help himself when it came to his best friend. Which was probably saying something about their friendship, but no one thought on it much.

The Wreckers really had no dislike for Arcee, they really didn't know her on anything other than a professional level. But they did know that Springer would flirt with her on occasions and she'd reciprocate with her own suggestive remarks and sly smiles. They couldn't help it. They just had to mess with the two. Not because they worried about her taking Springer away from them, but because they found something to use as leverage against the triplechanger.

It's so nice to get one over on him for once. Something that isn't just a random physical prank, but one that left him a flailing mess. And they enjoyed every moment of it like the sadistic glitches they were. And the best part was, so long as Arcee continued to snub him like she was, there was absolutely no way Springer could ever really get back at them for this.

Suddenly all chatter abruptly halted in the hangar, leaving nothing but an echoing silence. It was filled by determined, rhythmic stomping that everyone on the Hub long since recognized and feared.

Ratchet, in all his aggravated, growling, murderous fury, was stomping up to the collection of Wreckers.

"What," he gritted out, holding out a datapad as if it were a warrant that was about to signal their much-needed deaths at his hands, "is this?"

Optics paled as they recognized the file on the screen that covered the extent of damage they'd taken in their last series of outings correlating with the amount of recovery time they'd gotten. It was, to understate it, no where near enough.

"We-we can explain!"

"It's really not as bad as-"

"How did you even get that?"

"Medbay!" Ratchet snapped, making even Broadside shrink in on himself and pointing the way out the hangar. "Move it!" They shuffled out, the almost berserk look in his optics cowing any protests. Ratchet followed the line, practically marching them down the hall and growling at their heels.

Springer, being on the other side of the hangar and effectively hidden behind some crates, stared with a slack jaw.

"Sorry," a voice purred by his elbow, "did patient confidentiality also include showing other doctors?"

He turned, still shellshocked and saw Arcee smirking wickedly at him. "How did-"

"I am intel. I do know how to do a little hacking myself. Now," she reached up, hooking her fingers over Springer's neckring and drew him in close, "you said something about making all this up to me?"

Springer had to put his hands to her waist as utter _shock_ had him stumbling. This, he decided, is what love must feel like.

* * *

Apparently if you ever want to get revenge on the Wrecker collective, you sic Ratchet on them XD

Tomorrow: Yeah. As much fun as the old cartoons were, they really didn't care much about character development. So one episode of insanely paranoid Red is pretty much the entire basis of his personality, it seems.

Hunting Osprey: Thanks! Even though I know they occasionally fall through the cracks IRL, I'd like to think that useless or endangering officers don't get very far.

Flamingmarsh: Haha, yeah- it's good to have a healthy dose of paranoia if not just to protect yourself :P

CasusFere: Glad you liked!

Uftaki: Welcome back to the fold!

Azure: Every group needs a jerk. Whirl happens to be theirs :P And I agree- Red Alert has so many safety protocols and security measures planned out it's doubtful that something will happen he hasn't already planned for XD


	109. Request: Singing Wreckers

What's Wrong with a Little Destruction?  
The Wreckers 

The continuing awesomeness of IDW's top strikeforce!

Note: Requested by Guess. Again, probably not what you had in mind, but I'm not about to claim I can control any of the Wreckers. Songs used credited at the end.

Also Note: Is it too late for me to start putting up utter stupidity warnings?

* * *

Request: Singing Wreckers

_"Anything that is too stupid to be spoken is sung."  
-Voltaire_

The Wreckers were deep in their planning on how to draw out Sixshot and get him to an area where there wouldn't be too much collateral damage of possible loss of unfortunate bystanders. It wasn't an easy task given that not only was the dominant species a widespread and fairly dense lot, but everywhere they weren't the vestiges of their wildlife was. Springer had warned Optimus Prime that they'd do what they could to limit unnecessary deaths, but he couldn't promise for none. The Autobot leader just nodded and said he trusted their judgment.

Even though Optimus Prime was at the detachment he was still doing his able best to coordinate the rest of the war effort, leaving Prowl in continued charge of the dealings with Earth. The tactician went to the Wreckers' converted hangar, looking for an update in the strategy. Only half of their planetside numbers were within.

Prowl looked around at them curiously. Sandstorm was at a monitor looking up some parameters the black and white couldn't make out from his position. Whirl was going meticulously over their various weapons and traps and Topspin was surrounded by several datapads, checking and cross-referencing them against each other. Prowl's engine gave a short bursting rumble, as if he was clearing his throat. "Where is Springer?"

None of the Wreckers looked up from what they were doing, but Sandstorm did at least bother to say, "Well it's 3 a.m. I'm out here driving again through the wicked winding streets of my world."

There was silence. Then Prowl recycled his audios and asked, "Excuse me?"

"Number two. I'd cruise where the grass is smooth and the sound of the sea is a dreamy melody." Sandstorm… didn't actually repeat. But he said it as if he were repeating his last statement.

"Should you worry when the skullhead is in front of you or is it worse because it's always waiting where your eyes don't go?" Topspin added. As if that made any more sense.

"…I see." Prowl said slowly. He decided he would get a better (_saner_) answer asking, "What is the current state of your planning?"

Topspin shrugged. "No one in the hood controls The Herd, we don't know what's going on that's why it's unpredictable."

Now he was beginning to think there was some deteriorating defect with his audios. "What… What does that even mean?"

"Practice doesn't make perfect when you're interbreeding." Whirl piped in.

The question was palpable even though Prowl couldn't bring himself to speak. The Wreckers didn't break their rhythm in their assigned tasks, their expressions or taking turns breaking Prowl's processor very quickly and very efficiently.

"This world of ours is not as it seems." The triplechanger said solemnly. "The monsters are real but they're not in your dreams. Learn what you can from the beasts you defeat, you'll need it for some of the people you meet."

Doorwings started to twitch erratically and that got the Wreckers' collective attention. Trying to salvage his sanity best he could, Prowl groped for a question they couldn't possibly twist into… into… into whatever it was they were twisting answers with. "Have you found a suitable place to draw Sixshot to?"

"United States, Canada, Mexico, Panama, Haiti, Jamaica, Peru," Topspin ticked off each with a finger, "Republic Dominican, Cuba, Caribbean, Greenland, El Salvador too."

Then Whirl leaned forward, head cocked to the side as if he were actually concerned. "You stared at me till your eyeballs smoked. Was it anger or love or the caffeine in your Coke?"

There was a near-audible _fritz!_, maybe even a spark and Prowl staggered backwards as his logic functions shorted.

"I'll… leave you to it, then." He muttered weakly, groping his way out and to the medbay.

The three Wreckers waited until the door closed and the stumbling steps faded. Then Sandstorm leaned over with his hand out so Topspin could slick him five with a Cheshire grin. Whirl's optic glowed with immense satisfaction.

"I love us."

* * *

Hey, Pretty – Poe  
Days like These – The Cat Empire  
Where Your Eyes Don't Go – They Might be Giants  
Unpredictable – The Herd  
Villa Rosie – Blur  
Goodnight, Demon Slayer – Voltaire  
Nations of the World – Animaniacs  
Are You Okay – Was (Not Was)

I need better timing to putting these chapters up. I'm too tired and worn out from work to reply to my lovely reviewers D But I am glad so many people enjoy Ratchet bringing down the hammer on the Wreckers the way he does. I'm glad I'm not the only one XD

Out of curiosity, I'm wondering who everyone's favorite Wrecker (or Wreckers for those that can't decide) are.

EDIT: D'oh. Thank goodness for the readership. Contia Mirian caught what should've been an incredibly obvious mistake so it's been changed.


	110. Request: Prowl and Wreckers

What's Wrong with a Little Destruction?  
The Wreckers 

The continuing awesomeness of IDW's top strikeforce!

Note: Requested by Silveriss, set before Frightened Wreckers, in canon-timeline this is after Thunderwing has gone crazy and started attacking everyone and just before Autobots and Decepticons decide to unite strengths at Thunderhead Pass.

Also Note: Things will be explained a little better on a later prompt. Promise.

* * *

Request: Prowl and Wreckers

_"The price of inaction is far greater than the cost of making a mistake."  
-Meister Eckhart_

Springer's fans worked unsteadily, venting in short, shallow bursts and stuttered when dust and debris clogged his intakes. He was dizzy, hurt and trapped. The world around him was an oppressive gloom, no lights, just the painful skritch of metal pressing him onto other angles of metal. Springer could barely think, almost on the verge of stasis lock as he weakly fumbled around the black pitch. Lines of scrolling alerts on his HUD were sporadically interrupted by static and a number of times Springer's sight blinked out entirely. Not that there was much else to see, he tried to think wryly, but his well of humor was running woefully lower with every passing nano-klik.

He tried an internal reroute of his communications. With his receiver burnt out Springer couldn't find a frequency to communicate with, but he could use that little extra bit of power to boost the signal on his locator. Hopefully someone would be able to read it under all this building that got blown up on him. Hopefully his locator would stop fluctuating long enough for someone to get a read on him. Hopefully it would be before he slipped into stasis and his internals powered down.

Hopefully one of the other Wreckers survived.

Springer cursed to himself, trying to focus on just staying conscious and pushed back the utter failure that was this mission. With a crazed and super-powered Thunderwing running rampant all across Cybertron, tensions were running high throughout the Autobot forces, paranoia, worry, anxiety- it made the Wreckers itch for action.

A patrol had disappeared over a shift ago and that itch had Springer assembling a squad from his Wreckers to go and search for them. Asides from Thunderwing, the Decepticons were still out there and still a threat, hounding a safe distance from the former-scientist-turned-genocidal-maniac and picking off the cities and bases that were nearly destroyed in his wake. If the patrol had gotten caught up with either of the two, Springer knew someone needed to be there to give them a hand.

Even if he knew Prowl was going to (try to) ream him one for not following protocol.

Slag protocol, he thought angrily. If they followed protocol, by the time the Autobots decided to scramble a search party for the search party, Springer would already be dead. At least he could trust the other Wreckers to get their heads out of their afts and do their own searching after a cycle without being pinged by Springer's squad.

He groaned and winced. He didn't know how Thunderwing did it- seemingly coming out of nowhere the way he did –but he managed to drop on the Wreckers before they even knew he was there, fell on them with raging energy and they could barely get a shot at him before he turned the whole damn world over. Springer didn't even see what happened to his team- was picked up and thrown through a building, then had that same building collapse on him while he was too disoriented to move.

He hoped the others were alive. Primus, please don't let them be dead or slowly dying. At least let them be with each other. Don't let them be alone and shutting down one circuit at a time like Springer was. Something was digging painfully through his shattered cockpit and he shifted. It just sent sharp spark of pain scratching down his back that had Springer gasping. He sucked in more dirt, clogged his vents and left him coughing violently. His internal temperature was steadily rising, unable to get cool and he groaned, fighting back the darkness trying to over take him.

The groan seemed to go on forever. He realized it was the metal above him.

I'm going to be crushed, he thought wearily, strangely unsurprised or upset about it. Just let it be over with.

A large slab of something heavy pushed down until it brushed the crest of his helmet. Then it rolled away. Springer's optics shuttered against the knife of light cutting through them. Slowly, adjusting his optic filters, Springer peered out, fresh air and the scent of ozone washing over him. Pale light gave a gleam to tarnished and worn armor and Springer knew that silhouette anywhere- could distinguish it from others of the same build in an instant.

"Pr'l," his vocalizer glitched, still trying to shift out all the debris that had gotten inside of him.

"Bluestreak," Prowl said, not even giving Springer another glance as he gauged the rest of the material still trapping the triplechanger, "find Twin Twist, see if he's functioning enough to dig Springer out. Bring anyone that's still capable."

The young gunner's head bobbled rapidly. "Yessir!" He took off in a run, leaping over chunks of rubble before hitting the ground on his wheels and peeling out.

Springer turned his attention back to Prowl, saw the exhaustion in his optics and the lines of his faceplate, that his hands and doorwings were shaking ever so slightly. He looked to be on the verge of shutting down.

"What," he rasped slowly, trying to force out each word clearly, "are you doing here?"

Prowl's optics snapped at him, suddenly flaring bright. The last thing Springer saw was a white fist coming at his face.

* * *

Contia Mirian caught what should've been an incredibly obvious mistake so it's been changed. Thankfully it wasn't a very character-driven chapter so very little of the actual content had to be edited.

So it seems like Springer is the most popular of the group- which really shouldn't be a surprise and he'd have been torqued to find that he wasn't XD -with Sandstorm and Topspin not far behind him. Which brings me to another question: which of the Wreckers do you think need more screen time? Someone you think you might like more if you got to see them more often? I still have a lot of prompts I've yet to write for, I could try to fit them in any of those, so let me know! Who needs me to shine more love on them? I'd count Xantium among them, but I'm sure most of you are ready to prod me to work on a certain other thing with her...

Jason: I'm sure you could find some meaning if you really reach for it XD

Dragowolf: I'm on spring break next week! I'll be heading cross-country where I won't get much in the ways of internet, though D:

Contia Mirian: Every group needs their jerk. Whirl happens to be the Wreckers' :D

Guess: I have a very eclectic taste when it comes to music. I suffer through my dad's NPR when I drive with him because I don't do it often anymore and also because his car is really crappy and doesn't offer much else on the radio.

Azure: The Wreckers don't strike me as a musical group. Unless they're over-energized, but I don't think that counts as they'd probably warble the hell out of something and then pick a fight with someone XD

Crimson Starlight: I doubt there will ever come a time that Springer will not enjoy someone messing with Prowl!

VAWitch: Rock on, Voltaire, rock on.

Flamedancer: Welcome to the dark side! I know how you feel, though. I rarely leave reviews though I'm trying to break out of that habit. Can't say that's really been working for me, though. :P

Tecuma: They're keeping Prowl alert and on his toes! After all, no one wants a tactician that's not prepared for everything, right? XD


	111. Request: Tracks and Wreckers

What's Wrong with a Little Destruction?  
The Wreckers

The continuing awesomeness of IDW's top strikeforce!

Notes: Requested by Hellsfirescythe.  Wow, I'm really sorry about this one.  No ideas came to me at all and I had to really push it out.  Hopefully the next drabble will be so utterly awesome you'll forget about how much crap this one is T.T  Also, I haven't forgotten about this at all.  I just went out on spring break back to the opposite coast and didn't want to put this chapter up without having a better chapter to go up soon after in order to hide it.  So if you see a double update for this, you aren't seeing things.

* * *

Request: Tracks and Wreckers

_"Sometimes when I feel like killing someone, I do a little trick to calm myself down. I'll go over to the person's house and ring the doorbell. When the person comes to the door, I'm gone, but you know what I've left on the porch? A jack-o-lantern with a knife stuck in the side of it's head with a note that says 'You'. After that I usually feel a lot better, and no harm done."  
-Jack Handy  
_  
Sometimes there're just times when you want to kick back and relax.  Sometimes there're times you just want to be left alone.  Sometimes there're times when you're fully prepared to messily dismantle the first thing that speaks to you and other times still all three moods hit you at once.

Whirl was- pretty unanimously –the least liked of all the Wreckers.  He cared little for anyone outside his team, had that snooty attitude all airborne had, managed to wrap it all nicely with an antisocial personality topped with a biting sarcasm and the knack for getting this mix of three moods on a fairly regular basis.

Even though he thought the universe of his team there were still times even Xantium's great halls closed in on him and he just needed to bounce for a bit.  Unsurprisingly this volatile mood of Whirl's just landed him in trouble elsewhere.  In this case elsewhere was in a lift at the Hub during an impromptu maintenance call.  The trouble, well… the trouble was he was stuck in there with Tracks of all mechs.  And he just would.  Not.  Shut.  Up.  No matter what sort of growls and grumbles and glares and 'Primus, just _stop_'s Whirl gave him.

He didn't care that Tracks had a schedule to keep, he didn't care that Tracks had 'bots to command and Whirl sure as frag didn't care that the sudden and jarring stop that knocked him off his feet (Whirl barely kept his due to all the gyroscopic systems inside of him) left scuff marks on him.  What Whirl _did_ care about was the fact that he was stuck with the blue mech.  He cared that Tracks was arguing with the maintenance crew instead of letting them do their job.  He cared that Tracks wouldn't _stop_.

"_Tracks_."  He snapped, reaching the end of his short patience.  "You want to flap that mouth component of yours, why don't you do something useful with it and suck-start a pistol?"

Tracks gaped at Whirl.  He, of course, knew about the helo's inability to play nice with others that weren't Wreckers, but he hadn't expected quite _that_.  "You-"

"-open that hole of yours one more time, I will stuff a rifle down it and pull the trigger.  Compute?"

His mouth component work soundlessly.  The look in Whirl's one optic didn't bode well enough for Tracks to tempt fate, so he snapped it shut and turned to glare daggers at the door.

Whirl just sighed happily at the sudden abundance of silence.

* * *

Dragowolf:  Prowl, of course, would utterly deny being worried about him at all XD

Flamingmarsh: They get him out.  And don't worry- there will be a follow up chapter to this coming up soon.

Flamedancer: Oh yeah.  Sometimes it'll take me HOURS to find a fitting quote, sometimes I have to make due with something that only partially works for the chapter.  Sometimes I find a quote I really like and save it for other chapters.  Or I just do a chapter based on the quote.

JML:  Man, you have no idea...  I'm actually surprised he never did that before, really.

Azure:  He really is.  That's why I like the little guy, every team needs the cute, optimistic little brother around!

Contia Mirian: Don't worry about that- the other Wreckers won't let Scoop hog all the spotlight XD

CasusFere: Uh... hoped you enjoyed more jerkyness? :D?  I really do want to use him more.  Well, him and everyone, but yes...

Veglma: He'd been waiting to do that!

Tomorrow: If you think Springer would've just let me end it there, you don't know him very well XD  There's a follow up that will be coming up in due time.

Silveriss: I love little moments like that, when someone loses their control for that one moment and do something they wouldn't allow themselves to do otherwise.  Shows how flawed and... 'human' they all are.

Angelstar: Haha, I don't expect everyone to like everything I write and I like spreading their name around!  I'm glad you seem to be liking everything else, though :P


	112. Request: Seekers and Wreckers II

What's Wrong with a Little Destruction?  
The Wreckers

The continuing awesomeness of IDW's top strikeforce!

Notes: Requested by Khareesa. You probably wanted something with actual named Seekers but that probably wouldn't have worked out with this idea. At least, not without people getting mad at me.

* * *

Request: Seekers and Wreckers II

_"Do not bite at the bait of pleasure, till you know there is no hook beneath it."  
-Thomas Jefferson_

There was a reason a certain model of jet (that came to be called Seekers because their use was mainly to 'seek and destroy') was so prominent in the Decepticon ranks. Most other vehicle types tended to be fairly average in tech specs, Seekers were mainly a high average. And those that weren't tended to pretty damn amazing at what they did. All of the Decepticons' best fliers were Seekers and even the Autobots' bests were hard pressed going nosecone-to-nosecone with them. The Wreckers' jets- neither of which were originally fitted to actually be jets –often found themselves being significantly outclassed by veteran Seekers.

It was also one of the very rare times that Broadside ever disliked his size. He towered over almost every other Autobot or Decepticon, his size, power and reputation made him one of the first threats the Decepticons wanted taken down. With a trine of much faster, more maneuverable Seekers matching his every move, Broadside cursed to himself, rolling and trying to stay out of their sights. They kept the pressure on him and Broadside felt their fire pelting deep into his armor.

"_Hang on, Side!_" Roadbuster called out over their comm. "_Just hang on a bit longer!_"

He didn't reply, just pushed himself to the limit and prayed an engine didn't get blown out.

Something exploded off to his right and one of the Seekers went down in a shower of sparks and flaming wreckage. The other two pulled off in a burst of curses but another caught an anti-air missile in the fuselage and the other got his tail end blown off, a spiraling cloud of black tracing the path of his death among the half-dozen or so other Seekers already below. Roadbuster, Topspin and Scoop gave out a whoop from behind their heavy artillery while Broadside swung about, looking to bait himself some more jets into their aptly named Death Valley.

He did, very rarely, curse at his lumbering size in comparison to Seekers but this was not one of those times. His bulk was a very tempting target to chase after and he was infinitely glad that Seekers tended to be so very stupidly arrogant.

* * *

Silveriss: Tracks is, unfortunately, one of those characters I never really paid attention to, so I don't have a very confident grasp of his character. Hell, the only reason that chapter was done at all was because Whirl go so tried of my agonizing over it he said, "Just tell him to suck start a pistol and move on". So really I just built the chapter around that sentence XD

JML: I very much agree.

Hellsfirescythe, Cafei, Veglma, Flamingmarsh: I'm glad you enjoyed it! It's good to know the chapter wasn't a total loss.

Contia Mirian: Man, if Springer has a dime for every complaint he ever got about Whirl he could by entire planets XD

Flamedancer: My spring break consisted of going back home, having big home cooked meals, playing Smash Bros Brawl, seeing my do again and finally getting around to reading a book I bought about two months ago. I'd say it was a pretty good spring break!


	113. Special: Belligerent Wreckers

What's Wrong with a Little Destruction?  
The Wreckers

The continuing awesomeness of IDW's top strikeforce!

Notes: Note: Because I couldn't fit this into any other prompt. I suppose I should point out now because I can't recall if I had anywhere else, my idea of sentient ships is partially inspired by Vaeru's Juxtaposition series and One Piece. More out of context quotes ftw.

Also Note: Try to guess who says what! With the exception of Roadbuster and Springer who don't speak until the end, all the others have two lines a piece! Whoever guesses right (there may be more than one) gets to request a sketch! Though, uh… be patient with me on them, please…

* * *

Special: Belligerent Wreckers

_"Do not use a hatchet to remove a fly from your friend's forehead."  
-Chinese Proverb_

"Who the hell keeps messing with the cargo? I just spent an entire shift getting everything resituated!"

"Stop putting my high-grade cocktails in the energon dispenser! I'm always getting blamed for it!"

"I find out which one of you slaggers raped my medbay, I will jam each tool you stole in your intake vents!"

"There's half a ton of RE-12 missing. Whoever took it, I will maim you."

"WHO THE SLAGGING HELL BROKE MY RADIO SCANNER!? I _just_ got that thing fixed!"

"My contact list is _not_ open for casual browsing! I find out you've been going through it again I will fragging end you!"

The Wreckers were a tight group, they depended on each other and cared for each other to an extent few other groups did. When it came down to it there really was nothing they wouldn't do for each other.

"Alright, whoever took out the scram cannon WITHOUT SIGNING OUT FOR IT, clean that slag off it, put it _back in the armory where it belongs_ and TELL ME NEXT TIME YOU WANT IT."

"The next mech what sets foot in here that's not leaking, sparking or otherwise about to die is going to get dismantled."

"I find out someone pulled down the filters on our network again, I'm going to regulate access to be _business only_! Do you realize how much fragging _spam_ we get?"

But that didn't mean they didn't annoy the ever loving slag out of each other at times.

"Would you like me to run Xantium into a gravitational well and kill us all? Would that be an amusing way to end the shift? THEN STOP CHANGING HER FLIGHT CONTROLS! That's the default for a reason!"

Sometimes they just got so sick of dealing with each other they all needed a time out.

"No, we don't have the credits for a new one, we barely had credits for _that_ one. Maybe if you _thought_ more often, you wouldn't be breaking every new toy we got!"

"I don't care if it 'worked at the time', cement putty is _not_ a viable solution to patching up Xantium's injector coil, it only makes her mad. Do it again and I twist your arms off."

Usually the Wreckers would be able to exercise their frustrations with each other out on the battlefield. Sometimes, though, Roadbuster would go up to Springer and tell him:

"I am going to murder everyone on board."

Springer sent Prime a wave saying they had to make a pit stop somewhere for supplies and he kicked everyone off with a, "Get the hell off my ship until your existence stops torquing me off!" The other Wreckers vanished, glad to finally get away from each other for a while.

It took Springer a moment to realize that the low growling wasn't actually coming from him. "Aw, Xantium- you know I didn't mean it like that. You're no one's ship- you're your own ship! I just meant it as-"

Her lights flashed angrily and Springer figured the smartest course of action would be to make himself as scarce as his team. Xantium hummed happily as he yelped, her doors clipping his foot on the way out.

* * *

Dragowolf: I'm sure they'll come up with something new and surprising XD

Flamingmarsh: Aw, thanks! Hope you had a good Easter too! However late I am...

Flamedancer: You always gotta watch out for the quiet ones! He can't fool the other Wreckers, but Broadside has been known to frame pranks on others and has never once been caught because he 'seems' so responsible. He's a devious one!

Contia Mirian: lol! He probably will now that you mention it XDD

Khareesa: No apologizes necessary. I know aaaaaalll about being guilty of not reviewing...

Veglma: Glad to hear it!

JML: I've never been there. I don't do too well in hot weather, though I suppose it wouldn't be too bad since it's a dry heat and not humid heat.

Pyrinsomniac: The Wreckers are awesome on their own, I'm just sharing the love XD

Azure: Yeah, you can't get those lot in such a simple trick. They wouldn't be the best (or still alive) if they weren't too smart for it. But the majority of Seekers I see being so full of themselves and glory-hogs they'd be blind to the obvious. Which, of course, the Wreckers would absolutely take advantage of :P


	114. Request: Intimate Wreckers

What's Wrong with a Little Destruction?  
The Wreckers

The continuing awesomeness of IDW's top strikeforce!

Notes: Requested by Azure. I tried getting it a little more actiony, but it just wasn't happening. So have a quiet, tender moment instead? I also suppose this would fall under dramatic irony for those of you in the know…

* * *

Request: Intimate Wreckers

_"Every man is afraid of something. That's how you know he's in love with you; when he is afraid of losing you."  
-Unknown_

Death and close brushes thereof were a daily event for the Wreckers. Usually those spark-thumping touch-and-go moments were met with laughter and jokes and the occasional 'wow'. Sometimes, though, death hit too close to home for them.

It was a suicide run- they all knew it –and the Wreckers had split into two squads, half the team moving in on foot, the other running distraction on a skimmer. But anti-air missiles ripped straight through the skimmer, tearing at the light frame so hot and fast it exploded into molten rain. One squad thought the other was dead, the other squad was shocked they were alive, having had to bail out earlier when they realized how heavy the defenses were.

It wasn't often they felt the need to cling to each other, but sometimes they just got so shook up they had to feel each other, hold each other, reaffirm their knowledge that everyone was alive and okay. That they were all still whole. These moments, for the Wreckers, wasn't so much a bonding experience or for group intimacy. For them it was 'I don't want you to die, even as you court it'.

They lay curled together in Xantium's main lounge, none of them actually offline but half-lulled to a recharge in the comfort of their brothers' presence and their ship's reassuring hum. Scoop was draped across Broadside's chest, idly tracing the ghost of a crack that once decorated his canopy. Sandstorm and Twin Twist had Topspin sandwiched between them, half propped against the large triplechanger's leg while Whirl, ignoring his instinctive need for space, was wedged in the crook of Broadside's arm.

The only one that had moved was Springer, checking their scans and security and letting his mechs have the time needed to get themselves comfortable in themselves and each other again. He sat against the ledge of the bay windows, looking at the stars and listening to the sated, comfortable hums and quiet murmurs of his team. A container of energon descended into his view and as Springer took it, an arm wrapped around his shoulders and pulled him half into a lap, pressed against a broad chest.

"Frantic day." Roadbuster's words were rumbled more through Springer's back than in his audio receptors.

"To put it lightly."

They sat in silence for a moment, nursing their energon and just needing to feel each other there.

"I don't suppose there's a way," Roadbuster leaned in to set down his mostly empty container and didn't move away, "to keep you out of the thick of it?"

Springer snorted lightly. "No more than I could keep you or any of the others out of it."

The combat vehicle ducked his head, pressing the curve of his helmet against the green span of his friend's. "Be careful, Springer." His large hands held tight to the triplechanger's hip components, still unable to shake that sick, scared feeling that had haunted him ever since he watched the skimmer explode. "I don't know what I'd do if you… I couldn't…"

The feeling of a hand sliding over his had Roadbuster falling silent, felt Springer settle more fully against his chest. "You're a smart mech, RB. You'll figure it out."

* * *

I'm... actually a little surprised that no one got it though Contia Mirian was rather close. The order went:

Broadside (mentioned in Greedy and briefly touched upon in Cats)  
Whirl (mentioned in Combaticons)  
Topspin (obvious)  
Twin Twist (er... I think it was only very briefly _briefly_ mentioned in Red Alert)  
Scoop (mentioned in Red Alert II, kinda?)  
Sandstorm (mentioned in Cats)  
Twin Twist (...don't think that was mentioned anywhere)  
Topspin (also obvious)  
Scoop (Red Alert II again)  
Whirl (pretty obvious, but I think it was mostly shown in... Grand Scale Love Song 3. Um, heehee?)  
Sandstorm (probably Cats again)  
Broadside (don't think this was really mentioned anywhere, too)

So I'll explain the kind of responsibilities I see the lot of them having for the most part. Topspin is, of course, the medic which also includes acting as the team's psychiatrist as well. Scoop is their security guy, from fortifications to communications and networking skills, he covers them all. Sandstorm deals with ordering supplies and their finances in general. If things get irreparably broken, he's the one they all go to for more (usually with much agitation on Sandy's part). He and Scoop generally deal with the comm systems.

Twin Twist is the keeper of the armaments and is the natural science guru and shares the science guy title with Whirl. He makes sure all their weapons and the like are working properly and is also the one that mainly deals with anything what goes boom. Broadside takes care of the supplies and maintenance on any non-weaponry gear. He's in charge of the cargo bay, keeps the shuttles and Xantium in order. Whirl is the navigator and also in charge of the entertainment on board if his energon-mixing skills has anything to say for it. That and also deals with all the aerodynamic/spatial/mathematical areas of science.

Btw, just wanted to take the time to thank everyone for sticking it out for so long and to be continually boggled at the fact that there are people actually taking the time to READ all of these chapters! Honestly, I don't know how all of you do it, but thank you anyway XD


	115. Angry Wreckers

What's Wrong with a Little Destruction?  
The Wreckers

The continuing awesomeness of IDW's top strikeforce!

Notes: Takes place between Prowl and Wreckers and Frightened Wreckers. Long angry thing ahead! There will be one more chapter coming up in a bit that rounds this mini-arc up.

* * *

21. Angry Wreckers

_"Many of us crucify ourselves between two thieves - regret for the past and fear of the future."  
-Fulton Oursler_

Normally, difficulty recovering in the medbay or not, Ratchet wouldn't let a single 'bot leave his bay without his final say so. But he let Springer go earlier than the CMO would've preferred under orders that the triplechanger was to report to Prowl as soon as he was capable. The fact that Prowl thought he could order Springer around amused him enough to humor the smaller 'bot. Besides, he had his own bits to pick.

Which he did the moment the door to Prowl's office closed behind him. "You punched me in the face."

"Yes, I did."

There was a pause. "You punched me," he repeated very deliberately, "in the face."

Prowl replied just as deliberately. "Yes. I did."

Springer was not in the mood to play games. "Okay. _Why_?"

"It made me feel better."

"I'm glad it did someone because it certainly didn't me."

"Are you really?"

"Really what?"

"Glad."

"Are you sorry enough apologize?"

"Absolutely not."

"There ya go."

There was another pause and that got Springer's hackles up. Coupled with the fact that Prowl obviously called him there to waste his time and that Springer's processes weren't all running at full capacity, he was far from enthused at this meeting. "Prowl, what is your problem?"

"That question would be best directed at you."

"Alright- my problem is you seem determined to slag me off right now. Sorry, I've got better things to do." He snarled before moving to leave.

"Such as cause me more unnecessary trouble?"

Springer froze and twisted back around. "What?" Prowl said nothing, just stared icily back at him. "What are you going on about?"

"Your entire excursion being trapped beneath rubble. I know your short-term memory wasn't damaged."

"Thunderwing came down on _us_, alright? We weren't looking for him."

Prowl looked every bit the calm and collected officer but the flex of his doorwings and the cold, harsh light of his optics betrayed the anger Springer was well aware of roiling inside of him. "And you just happened to have lost your way and ended up that deep in what was formerly Decepticon territory."

"We were looking for a missing squad." Springer seethed, fists flexing at his sides.

"We have protocols dealing with missing squads. If you followed them, you wouldn't have wasted our time and manpower trying to look for _you_."

"Your _protocol_ would've had us sitting on our afts for half a megacycle- and you know what can happen in that time."

"Yes, I do. And it's not all as dramatic as you seem to think it is."

"The entire squad could have _died_ in that time."

"Or they could have gotten over whatever minor malfunction they may have had and returned safely."

That broke whatever resolve Springer had and he exploded. "We were looking for _you_, you sparkless glitch!"

"Did you want me to thank you?" Prowl's engine growled low in response. "You broke protocol, went out without authorization, put your 'bots at risk, nearly got yourself killed and had to be rescued by the squad you went to find and now you're asking for _my_ gratitude?" Prowl didn't yell- he never yelled, but the intensity coming off him was almost smothering. "Do you ever listen to the words that come out of your mouth component?"

The triplechanger bristled. He knew Prowl had his points- valid ones –and that there were reasons that such protocol existed and he also knew that the Wreckers' gung-ho disposition sometimes landed them in situations even they couldn't always deal with on their own. But, more than anything else, he knew that Prowl's cold logic and rule-abiding mentality was _wrong_. Springer could never sit by and let any 'bot die while he could do something about it. It went against his programming and it's what made the Wreckers so damn effective. It's what made them fight until they won, even when all logic and probability and math said they should've died.

"I will not let others die just for your precious _protocol_," he seethed, air hissing out of his vents, "go ahead and rant while you blow yourself. I have better things to do than listen to this slag."

"Springer," Prowl's voice was sharp and deadly, "this is _my_ post and _my_ command and you will follow my orders while you are here."

If that's how he wanted to throw the gauntlet, "Suit yourself. We're out."

"Authorization to leave goes through me."

"So try to stop me." He spat, then whirled and stomped through the door. He found the other Wreckers were already waiting for him in the halls, none of the others nearly as damaged in that failed search and rescue mission as Springer had been. The triplechanger gritted out his orders, determined not to take his anger out on them. "Whirl, get us a shuttle heading out. Twist, get me a line to Prime. I'm sure we'll be of more use to him than we are here. The rest of you, gather our gear."

The hiss of hydraulics announced the door behind him opening up and a low voice hissed, "Get back in the office. This conversation is not done yet."

"No." Springer said, arms crossed against his chest as he half-turned. "And no. You have never and _will_ never order me around. And this conversation is overdue to end."

There was only the briefest twitch of a doorwing but it gave Springer immense satisfaction. "Your running away will not end this."

His satisfaction turned to a dark scowl. "I owe you a punch in the face, Prowl. You don't want me collecting right now."

"So your answer is to fight, is it? Just like always. You've never thought of the big picture, never thought how what you do will affect others. Something doesn't go your way, you attack it."

"And _you're_ any better?" The two were starting to draw a crowd, quiet and nervous as they watched the officers snarl at each other. "Bogging everything down with your bureaucratic trashscrap and then start pulling your 'holier than thou' attitude whenever someone proves you wrong!"

That hit a nerve- Prowl's jaw squared and his voice rose one level louder. "When _I'm_ wrong? You go out to play calvary and need someone to pull _your_ aft out and _I'm_ wrong?"

"_Life_ is not quantifiable, Prowl." Springer growled, pushing in close. The tactician refused to back up in the larger presence. "You can't put a variable on anyone and you have no right to judge who is worth saving and who isn't."

"But you do, is that it?" Arms crossed against his midsection and Prowl's blue optics glowed up from under his chevron. "You can decide that one life is worth risking countless others and you're utterly justified by that." The temperature plummeted around them. "Tell me, Springer. How many lives have _you_ lost in your little quest to save just _one_?"

Behind him, Springer's Wreckers thundered quietly and the fact that they were brought into this argument- indirectly or not –made Springer's internal temperature rise dangerously. "That," he bit out between clenched teeth, "is _my_ decision, just like it is theirs. If they choose not to, they have that right, but if I lose my life doing what I think is right, then I'm fine with that." He voice was barely a hiss but in the stillness of the hall it echoed eerily. "No one deserves to die abandoned and alone."

"Kaon meant nothing to you, I see."

There was a hand on Prowl's neck that slammed him into a wall so hard sparks flashed behind his optics. The hall was suddenly alive with cries of alarm and Wreckers shouting, "Get back! I said back!" Springer didn't remember moving, just remembered how much he hated Prowl in that one, unhinged moment.

And still, even with his vocalizer rasping and his feet scrapping the deck, the black and white mech pushed. "So how much of this is guilt?" He gritted out, hand gripping Springer's wrist guards but not trying to break the hold. "How much of this bravado is you making up for what happened? Fighting is the only way to cover up the fact that you're running away, isn't it?"

"Shut up." Springer's voice was tight and his grip tightened similarly. Prowl refused to gasp for him. "I'd make that same choice every time."

"Have you convinced yourself of that, yet? Say it enough, maybe you'll forget you're just dodging responsibility."

"I'm not sparkless like you." He hissed back, body thrumming cold and fuel pump vibrating wildly. "You'd as soon as abandon someone if they don't have any lasting uses. These 'bots aren't tools. I won't let you just discard them like they are."

Prowl's lips turned up in a snarling smirk. "I played it your way once, Springer. Never again. There is no end that can justify that cost." Out of his peripheral vision Prowl noted the twins slowly sliding forward, balanced across the front of their feet and ready to jump in. Prowl realized fully what it was he and Springer were doing. "There is a time and place to be reckless. Perhaps you should consider that in the future."

Roadbuster seemed to realize a breaking point was being reached and crept carefully up by his leader. "Springer." He touched lightly at the triplechanger's elbow. The touch snapped Springer back to his senses and the cloud of fury vanished from his expression. He stepped back with a strained gasp, trembling to keep himself under control.

Prowl slumped against the wall and before he realized it, Sideswipe and Sunstreaker shoved themselves between him and Springer and Trailbreaker was at his side, helping to brace him up even as his worry went unsaid.

The two officers glared at each other, hurt and raw and bared open for everyone to see, for each other to realize how deeply they'd cut one another. But they were in too much pain to care, humiliated that the other could see the things they were trying to hide and pulled out that ugliness where it couldn't be ignored. It hurt and they hated each other for it, just as they hated the fact that they had brought it out. They turned away at the same time, too proud to apologize, too angry to regret. Prowl waved off Trailbreaker's question, saying he was fine, nothing had been damaged. Springer waved his Wreckers onward and told everyone, "We're out of here."

* * *

Dreamchylde, Dragowolf, Flamingmarsh, Flamedancer: Aw, thank you! I'll try to continue making it worth the read!

Azure, VAWitch: I... feel really bad for Roadbuster. Because he has such strong feelings for Springer that only grew over the years together, but because they're right there next to each other almost all the time he really doesn't know how deep it goes. Poor, poor guy.

Cafei: I... really need to get that corresponding piece finished, don't I?

Cmdrtekk: Thank you!

JML: Aw, are you falling for the group cuddles now? XDD


	116. Feeling Sick Wreckers

What's Wrong with a Little Destruction?  
The Wreckers

The continuing awesomeness of IDW's top strikeforce!

Notes: Takes place after Frightened Wreckers. The Wreckers are with Optimus Prime's group at Thunderhead Pass, shortly before they decided to join forces with the Decepticons against Thunderwing. Another kinda long one.

Also Note: This was supposed to come after another random chapter, but due to overwhelming response, I decided to put it up now. I hope it's as good as everyone was hoping for. I'm not as happy with this as I want to be, but I can't figure out what is missing. I'm glad the last chapter generated so much talk, I'm even more glad some of you said you agree with one over the other. It's not easy being the one in charge, especially when you're responsible for so much.

* * *

23. Feeling Sick Wreckers

_"The dream begins with a teacher who believes in you, who tugs and pushes and leads you to the next plateau, sometimes poking you with a sharp stick called 'truth'."  
-Dan Rather_

With Optimus Prime out dealing with his divisions, Roadbuster was able to talk his way into taking the briefing while Springer sat out in some out of the way area, staring out over the promenade without seeing anything. The Wreckers couldn't pretend to each other that everything was alright, but they sure as hell weren't going to let anyone else know about it. Not that there wasn't a chosen few that they'd be unable to hide it from.

A hand fell on the edge of Springer's cockpit. "Can't say I've ever seen you look so lost before."

Springer turned his head just enough to confirm what his scans already told him. "Kup." He said with a faltering smile. "Good to see you again."

The old mech scoffed. "Is it? You sure don't sound all that pleased."

"Sorry, just…" he frowned to himself. "Did Roadbuster send you after me?"

"No, but I can call him up and get him to if you want." Kup leaned his elbows against the railing. "What's on your processor?"

"It's nothing."

"Yeah, pull the other one."

"Really. It's nothing important."

"That's funny. From where I'm standing it seems to have cut you deep for just being another argument with Prowl."

Springer shot him a look. "So you know? Great, how long do I have before Prime calls me into his office?"

"It wasn't an official complaint." Kup waved a hand. "Wasn't even really a complaint. He's keeping it under wraps." He leaned forward, trying to get Springer to look him in the optics. "You really shook him up bad, you know."

"Yeah, right." He muttered, feeling ashamed of the words even as he said them. "That sparkless glitch wouldn't give a damn about anything I do. Just cares about his stupid slagging _rules_."

"He called me up. Just before we got word you were on your way. He actually called me up and asked if what he was doing was wrong." Kup kept pressing in, kept trying to get Springer to look. "He told me what happened."

Inexplicably Springer felt furious. "So you blame me, too, huh? Yeah- I know, alright? I messed up and I could've gotten us all killed all for fragging nothing- _I know_! I'm wrong, he's right, end of story."

A hand reached for his fist, trying to keep it from trembling. "No. That's not the end of the story. And you're no more wrong than Prowl is."

Springer looked up at his mentor, lost and begging for help. "I did what I thought was right, Kup. That's all I try to do. Why is it always _wrong_?"

"Look, Springer- whatever you may think, whatever anyone else says- you and Prowl are not in competition. He has his way of doing things, you have yours. That doesn't make either of you wrong. You do what you think is right, you try doing nothing but right and that is a very noble, very powerful thing." Kup put an arm around Springer's shoulder. "But can you honestly say that what Prowl thinks is right is always wrong? That he's never done good thinking and doing the way he does?"

"No," came the soft reply.

"And can you honestly say that you've never done good doing what it is you do?"

Faces flashed in Springer's processor- smiling, thankful, _alive_. "No."

"There won't always be just one right way to do something and you can't do all the right in the universe on your own." The old mech's voice was a low, understanding gravel. He had hoped the two would have been able to come to this realization before they broke each other like this, but he was glad that he'd be able to help mend them when they did. "Prowl needs you to do what you do because he can't do it himself. You need him to do that same thing. You can fight all you want to- believe me, you two butting heads has done you a lot more good than you think –but there's no need for you to attack each other. Instead, you should be looking out for each other. Back each other up. Where one is weak, the other stands strong."

"It's not like Prowl makes it easy." Springer protested feebly. "He just- I don't know. It's like he does his damnedest to rile me up with all this regulations slag!"

Kup chuckled. "That's just the way he is. Not like you don't aggravate him with you cavalier tendencies. But that's you being you."

"How the hell am I supposed to work with him like that?"

"You remember right after Kaon," the name made Springer tense up and Kup squeezed his shoulder encouragingly, "how much pressure was being put on Prowl? The flak he was getting because he pulled everyone out and gave the city to Megatron, the criticism put on him for all the casualties and damages, everything he did and said was ripped apart and questioned by everyone and what did you do?" Springer's mouth component was set in a thin line as Kup answered his own question. "You stood by him. You backed him up and gave him counsel. Did you ever wonder why?"

He hadn't. He did it back then because he knew it was the right thing to do, but Springer never wondered what made it right. "I did it because I had to." He answered slowly. "Because it wasn't fair blaming Sentinel Prime's death on him because it wasn't his fault."

"Why did you support him? Out of all the other high ranking officers, why Prowl?"

"Because he knew what he was doing." A light went on in Springer's processor. "I trust him to do the best he can for as many as he can."

"And why do you think he ever came to you for advice? Because he trusts you to tell him what he needs to hear, no matter how harsh it is. You trust him to look out for as many as he can, he trusts you to take care of whoever slips between his fingers. But just because you trust each other to be damn good at what you do doesn't mean you'll always agree with each other."

"No." Springer gave a derisive snort, rubbing at the curve of his helmet. "Hell, annoying Prowl's gotten to be a habit. I'd probably miss it if I couldn't harass him anymore."

Kup grinned right back, glad to see Springer slowly coming back to himself. "Good to hear. By the way, Prowl's going to be coming here shortly. Prime's called his officers in, says he's got some news he wants to put on the table." Kup leaned in close and told him lowly. "Just because he considers the majority doesn't mean he's incapable of worrying over individuals."

Springer jerked his head around stunned as Kup walked off. He stared at the far wall of the promenade, then slowly let his head thunk against the rail. He was such a slagging _idiot_.

* * *

By the time Springer managed the time to get down to the hangar after the rest of Optimus Prime's inner circle had arrived, Prowl was speaking quietly with the Autobot leader, something low and beyond Springer's auditory range. The triplechanger stood a respectable distance away, waiting for them to finish their conversation.

Optimus Prime's optics flickered towards him for a moment. He rumbled at Prowl before reaching out to clasp his arm. As the tall mech moved away, he gave Springer an acknowledging nod. Springer had the distinct feeling he somehow knew about the fight.

Prowl's doorwings went stiff as Springer moved towards him and Springer felt an unexpected welling of agitation at his expression. "Springer, I-"

"Shut up."

Startled at the bluntness, Prowl clicked his jaw shut.

The green mech leaned in, growling and shoving a finger against the white of Prowl's hood. Witnesses watched in silent, morbid curiosity. "Don't you ever dare get captured because I will never stop until I know you're safe. I don't care the cost, I don't care if I sacrifice myself and I sure as hell don't care how many times you try to tell me to stop."

The tactician stared, frozen, for a long moment. Then his optics darkened as he said as imperiously as ever. "Fair enough, I'll make a note of it. However, I will not refrain from rebuking you every time you get yourself or others injured due to you unnecessarily charging into your missions."

It wasn't an apology. They didn't need them. They were both right, they were both wrong and they accepted that. They needed the other to make the choices they couldn't, they needed the other there and knowing that, knowing the other knew that was all the apology they needed.

Springer's lips twisted into a smirk. "Fine with me."

They wouldn't have it any other way.

* * *

Dreamchylde, Contia Mirian: I can tell you that Prowl does know what it is the Wreckers have to go through and he is grateful to have them willing to do it. It's just sometimes... sometimes he wishes they'd watch out for themselves for once, too.

Dragowolf: They really are kind of each other's best friend and worst enemy, both at the same time. They don't want to hate each other but sometimes they just make one another so angry... Also, yeah. Roadbuster is in love with Springer, but it's the unfortunate kind where, so long as Springer is there next to him, he'll never realize it. That's why he can deal with Hot Rod and Arcee. Springer may love them, but he's still by Roadbuster's side. I really didn't mean for this to happen.

Sakon, Pyrinsomniac, Cmdrtekk, Silveriss, Pax Athena, Tomorrow: Thank you very much for enjoying that last chapter. I hope this one is as good an ending as you hoped.

Cafei: Sorry, I have this entire thing in my head that the twins kept getting tossed around by their command because no one wanted to deal with them and Prowl was the first officer to not only understand how to handle them, but was also the first one to treat them fairly, so they respect him a great deal despite how they may act around him.

Azure: Mainly it was the fact that they had no idea what Springer was going to do and in a lot of instances, charging in before a fight has actually started actually tends to cause more damage. If a bunch of 'bots rushed at Springer in a moment where he's close to snapping, he probably would've hurt a lot of them. If Springer actually went through with attacking Prowl, the Wreckers would have been on him in an instant. They may want to see Prowl taken down a peg or few, but not like that and not if Springer would get in trouble for it.

Ronin Elf: I have to admit the more I write Prowl and Springer the more I adore pitting them against each other. Not just to have them argue, but because it really reveals a lot about the two of them. They're such wonderful foils in which they both do what they think is right, but they go about it in such different ways- the pragmatist and the idealist, as you said. They'd make the ultimate team, I'll bet, if they could get around their differences. But sometimes I think it's that friction between them that really makes them grow and support each other.


	117. In Costume Wreckers

What's Wrong with a Little Destruction?  
The Wreckers

The continuing awesomeness of IDW's top strikeforce!

Notes: Takes place right before the Wreckers arrive on Earth.

Also Note: Argh. Apologies for the long delay. About a week ago the powercord to my laptop crapped out on me rendering me computer-less during finals month. Right when I was about to start working on two of my school projects that were ON my computer. I know I need to get a new comp, but c'mon. There's a better way to remind me, life T.T

* * *

22. In Costume Wreckers

_"Stand by to stand by."  
-Marine Corps saying_

"Twin Twist, would you get reconfigured already?"

"Frag no!"

Optics glared at him in exasperation. "C'mon, we scoured the planet for alt modes for you-"

"And you were the one that refused to accept anything that didn't have drills."

"And this is the best they have."

"Well it's not good enough!" The driller snapped.

Scoop shook his head. "Twist, no one really likes the options they had to choose from, but everyone else is reconfigured."

"And you all look entirely ridiculous."

They really did. Scoop's shovel was almost half its original size, Whirl had one four-bladed hand and a rifle for the other (which made his already fairly limited gripping ability even more limited) and Topspin had the air cushion needed in this form's hovercraft wrapping around his chest. The triplechangers had it hardest, trying to find two alt modes of similar mass and then having to figure out how to get those two forms to work independently and not gum up the other form when not in use. Not to mention getting them to work while in robot mode.

In fact, due to his size and difficulty finding alt modes, Broadside volunteered to stay onboard Xantium and assist when needed.

The doors opened and Roadbuster came in, most of his bulk and armaments now missing and he looked surprising small without his shoulder cannon. "Is something wrong?"

Twin Twist's expression was a mesh of indignation and pleading. "Yeah- I'm not going down there! Not with the kind of alt mode I'll have to get!"

"What's the problem?"

"The 'problem'?" He seethed. He swiveled in a chair and brought up the drill he was set to become. "Okay, one: there's only one drill on this thing. First off, lookit the size of it. What am I gonna do? Poke a 'con and hope I hit their fuel tank? Second, it has no articulation points- the only place I can drill is straight ahead. Now let's go into maneuverability. There's barely a method of self-propulsion on this thing and where there is, it's regulated to rails. RAILS! How slagging convincing would _that_ be, putting rails down everywhere I need to go? And _this_ is the best choice I have? That is- hands down -_the_ worse planet with _the_ worse selection of vehicles I have ever had to subject myself to!"

Roadbuster just looked at him silently and Twin Twisted started up again, this time overtly begging. "Don't make me go down there like that, RB. If I have to transform into this thing, I will be the most useless monstrosity _ever_!"

The combat vehicle (well, light armored vehicle now) held up his hands. "That's Springer's call, not mine."

"Well, can't you say anything to him? It's not like you need all of us planetside unless Sixshot moves and we still have Xantium and the ability to do an orbital bounce."

"You can ask if you want, I don't know how exactly he wants-"

The doors opened and Springer strode in, slimmed down in his new forms. "Alright, everyone get assembled- oh, you're all here already." He looked around and the others looked right back at him. "Something up?"

"Twin Twist doesn't want to go planetside on account of his alt mode choice being not functional enough."

Springer stared at his second for a moment. "Okay."

"…" Said the Wreckers.

"That's it?" Twin Twist boggled.

"Broadside won't be able to monitor everything all the time and I was going to ask one other body to stay behind. And since you volunteered…" Springer shrugged. "Besides, that alt form _is_ pretty useless."

The driller seemed to deflate at the anti-climatic confrontation. "Oh. Okay."

"Good. The rest of you, let's get going."

* * *

Flamingmarsh, Dragowolf: I'm actually trying to end this (as best something like this CAN be ended) so I can focus on other works. Which isn't exactly working as every now and again I get ANOTHER drabble of inspiration. But if Blue or the Twins decides to pop up in one of them, by all means I'll let them.

Azure: Actually you pretty much got my reasoning behind it. They didn't know what Springer would do and if he had gone through actually outright attacking someone like that, it would be difficult for them to trust him as explicitly as they do. While they'd know he's a strong leader and capable strategist it would still be in the back of their minds that he's capable of snapping so uncontrollably. As it is- as you stated before -it did cause a rift between the Wreckers and the other Autobots for the simple fact it happened at all. Some of them got over it, others just put it on top of the long list of why they hate the team. Because you know there's haters everywhere.

Everyone else: Thank you very much for commenting, I really do appreciate the crit that I get and the people telling me I'm overly paranoid about some of my more dramatic or emotional works. There will be a couple more lighthearted drabbles to offset the last two chapters.


	118. Sleeping like Babies Wreckers

What's Wrong with a Little Destruction?  
The Wreckers

The continuing awesomeness of IDW's top strikeforce!

Notes: I don't know how likely this scenario is, but for the sake of the drabble, assume it is probably. And a vague Sandy/Flight mention for you fans out there!

Also Note: School will continue to eat both me and my sanity for the next two weeks. Thank goodness I have a stockpile of drabbles sitting on my comp. You'll be guaranteed at least one drabble a week.

* * *

24. Sleeping like Babies Wreckers

_"Wake not a sleeping lion."  
-Chinese Proverb  
_  
When Air Raid of all mechs turned down a prank it should've been pretty obvious that this bad idea was the mother of all bad ideas. Not that it stopped Sideswipe who had a fairly eschewed view of the obvious. Because for him, in all the time he'd known them, this was the first time he'd ever seen Wreckers completely dead to the world- _all_ of them. At the same time. And that made something else even more obvious.

Sideswipe knew it was one helluva party (still had trouble walking straight because of it) and there were still plenty of other 'bots sprawled around the room but the fact was _all eight Wreckers were deep in recharge and vulnerable_. If that wasn't a massive, screaming 'MUST TAKE ADVANTAGE OF' then Sideswipe didn't know what was.

Fortunately his brother had slightly more intelligence and decided to hang back (on the opposite side of the room) with Air Raid. The two watched Sideswipe half sidle, half tilt among the jagged ring of recharging Wreckers. With a still tipsy grin the red mech brought out a trumpet (Primus only knew where he got it), raised it to mouth and took in a big gulp of air.

"BRRAA-grk!"

Suddenly there was a dogpile of bodies with Sideswipe underneath it all and rifles pressed against his helmet. "Heywhoawhoawait!" He tried flailing wildly, most everyone else around was startled awake and Sunstreaker was already half way across the room. "Stop! Hang on! It's just me!"

Optics recycled and the Wreckers blearily peered down at the squirming body beneath them.

"….Sideswipe?"

"Fer frag's sake…"

"What the hell are you doing?"

"Don't shoot- I'm sorry!" He squeaked, Broadside's knee pressing down hard on his back. "Primus, it was just a joke!"

Sunstreaker turned to give Air Raid a questioning look as the Wreckers slowly backed off his twin, grumbling in annoyance to themselves. Air Raid spread his hands with a shrug. "You know how many times I had a rifle pressed to my faceplates walking into Fireflight's quarters unannounced? Those mechs are friggin' high strung."

* * *

To everyone because I'm feeling a little braindead: Thanks again for the comments! I'm glad you all enjoyed that last chapter!

To those that asked: Well... I don't know if I'll ever REALLY stop this series. I keep getting ideas for new chapters so while it will technically be on-going, I just want to get it to a point where I can focus on other writings. I have two in the works right now, one Wreckers based, the other not. Hopefully they'll both go up soon after this semester (finally) ends.


	119. Request: Humans and Wreckers III

What's Wrong with a Little Destruction?  
The Wreckers

The continuing awesomeness of IDW's top strikeforce!

Notes: For Wills for helping me with my short story for class. And for being so patient as I try to organize my friggin' life (only one week left! only one project left! i have so much joy!). Also, it got pretty long on me.

* * *

Request: Humans and Wreckers III

_"One kernel is felt in a hogshead; one drop of water helps to swell the ocean; a spark of fire helps to give light to the world. None are too small, too feeble, too poor to be of service. Think of this and act."  
-Hannah Moore_

Jimmy and Verity weren't prisoners- that was the most important thing to remember. Even so, there were places in Ark-19 they weren't allowed to go in and many of the Autobots were reticent to allow them back up to the surface after what happened to Sunstreaker and Hunter being an innocent casualty. The teens were starting to get restless.

Topspin, at the behest of Springer, gave Ratchet enough data correlating lack of fresh air and sunshine with depression and the dangers thereof. It took a little more time (Ratchet was already certain their current residence couldn't be healthy for them) to convince Prime that letting them out for a couple hours every once in a while could only help them. Once the Autobot leader agreed, Prowl had little choice but to go along with the order.

As moralistic as Springer trended to be, he hardly instigated this out of the kindness of his spark. He offered to be the first to take the two humans to the surface (claiming it would be safest for a Wrecker as whoever targeted Sunstreaker wouldn't know about the strike force) because, even if they weren't too familiar with the area they knew the planet intuitively. Whatever information he needed was best gotten from them than objectively observed.

As they moved along the roads, all novelty of Springer quickly wore off for Verity. "You couldn't have picked a more comfortable car, could you?"

Springer's voice seemed to come at them from the radio on the dash. "Military vehicles are geared more to keeping the riders safe rather than comfortable."

"You couldn't, I dunno, _modify_ it or something?"

"Can't say I was expecting passengers."

"I don't know about you," Jimmy said suddenly, "but I'm getting hungry. We need to stop somewhere and eat."

"Better than Wheeljack's 'mystery food', for sure."

"Do the two of you even have the currency for it?"

Springer's question left them silent. Verity spent her hitchhiking days on her wits and nimble fingers. Jimmy hadn't expected a pair of giant robots ripping open his garage and merely had a couple cents and a gift card to Best Buy in his pockets. The teens exchanged contemplative glances before asking, "Can't you do some cool, ultra high-tech thing where you wire us some money?"

"First off, where would I get that money from? Second, the clutch about keeping a low profile includes not doing anything illegal."

"Pfft. If you wanted to be low profile," Verity scoffed, "you shouldn't have picked a big, green, baby-eating car to turn into."

"I'm an armored mech. This is an armored vehicle. I'm not going to be trolling around in some lightweight joyride."

Jimmy- always quick to stave off an argument –said, "Look, there's a restaurant sign. We'll just head over and figure something out then."

"Works for me." The girl said, leaning back in the not-so-very comfortable seat.

About a mile later, Springer drove right by two exits.

"Hey!" Verity cried. "You missed the turn!"

"Turn?"

"Yeah! Didn't you see the sign?"

"I saw lots of signs."

"So why didn't you turn off when it said?"

There was a silence. Then Springer said a hair defensively, "Seeing and reading are two completely different things."

Jimmy tilted his head at the radio. "You can't read?"

The defensive tone grew. "Not in this mode."

"Well why didn't you tell us?" Verity threw her arms out. Military vehicles weren't comfy, but they had cab space. "We could've told you where to go!"

"Where do you think my optics are in this form? My headlights?"

"How do you know where you're going, then?" Jimmy asked.

"Scanner. GPS. Also helps that your planet has this fascination with looking at itself."

"So if you can't actually see," the young mechanic reasoned slowly, "you probably can't tell that the guy in the van behind us keeps looking at you."

Silence filled the cab. Verity got up on her knees to twist around-

"Don't look!"

The quick snap had her plopping forward again. "I thought you said you couldn't see!"

"That doesn't mean I don't know what you're doing. You're sitting inside of me after all. Jimmy, how long ago did you start noticing this?"

Suddenly on the spot, Jimmy jumped in his seat. "Hey- I didn't know you couldn't see! I thought you didn't turn 'cuz you had something planned!"

"I understand that. How long?"

"About- I dunno, twenty minutes?"

The Autobot went quiet again. Mostly. Except this time there were faint whirls and clicks and beeps, like if a fax machine had something intelligible to say without the banshee shrieking. When the noise stopped, Verity asked, "What was that?"

"That was me being told that van is definitely tailing us and is networked to other vehicles getting into what looks like good ambush positions." Springer hunkered a little lower on his shocks. "However these humans got their information about us, they've got a good source if they can track our energy signatures. That's going to make a lot of things more difficult."

"Like the part where he we don't get caught in their trap?"

Under them, Springer rumbled with laughter. "That's the easy part. But now that they know more of us are here, they're going to be more alert to our movements. By the way, if you have any electronic gizmos that aren't insulated you'll want to turn them off and pray they'll work later."

Being a young hobo and an impulsively abducted boy, Verity and Jimmy didn't have much in the ways of the high-tech, but that didn't stop them from worrying. "What are you going to do?"

"Just a scrambler. It'll mix up my energy signature on scans for a short while and should cause the satellites tracking me to blip momentarily."

"But you'll still have to drive." Said Verity. "It's pretty limited where you can go on this road."

There was that vibrating laugh again. "Consider yourselves lucky. You get an inside view to what these guys won't get to see. Keep as still as you can. I've never done this with something inside of me before, but according to the specs, you should be safe." Springer told them as he suddenly took a curve down among some large hills. The van couldn't move fast enough to follow.

"_Safe_?"

"What are you-"

Before either teen could give more than a shrieked, "Hoshi-" the space they sat in _morphed_. No longer where they sitting side by side in a LAV, but now one was behind the other and two different engine vibrations blended in together before one fell out, replaced by rhythmic chopping. The teens pressed their faces against the windows and saw not the hood of the LAV or the road, but the earth quickly dropping away from them.

"You're a _helicopter_!" Verity exclaimed.

"Yes, I am." Came the proud reply.

"But… how?"

"I'm a triplechanger. Standard mechs have two transformation sequences, I have three. So does Sandstorm and one of the Wreckers currently in orbit. The Decepticons have two of their triplechangers here and Sixshot's got himself six forms."

Verity's eyes went wide. "Wow- how do you deal with all that?"

"Lots of practice." The radio said with a grin.

"Hey, Jimmy!" Verity leaned forward with a wide, wide smile. She never imagined herself in a _helicopter_! "How cool is- Jimmy?"

The boy in question was curled in the seat with his arms thrown over his face. "Tell me when we get back on the ground." He said weakly. The light bank downward made him curl tighter.

"Alright," Springer relented. "We're far enough away as it is." This certainly wasn't what Springer had expected when he suggested the outing, but it wasn't at all in vain. These humans may be more useful than he anticipated.

* * *

Dragon of Dispair: Yeah, Sideswipe probably didn't learn anything from that XD

Tiamat: Are they? I don't have the techspecs and I haven't seen on either of their bios that they're brothers so I didn't make them related in Destruction. They are, however, closest to each other even among the other Wreckers.

Azure: Blargh, I need to get on IM something fierce so I can talk to you again DX Just a little longer and then it'll be break for me!

ToaVeka: Haha, it seems to me that this fic is how most people found who the Wreckers were so you're not alone!

To those that commented: One of those other non-Destruction things I'm working hopefully will start going up shortly. It has become apparent to me that I can no longer do long one-shots. They all spiral out of control on me.

Note to self: Stop putting chapters up at two in the morning. It makes it harder to think of replies to people's comments DX

Though now I kinda gotta wonder... if you don't mind my asking, how/why did my readership first decide to pick this series up?


	120. Flirty Wreckers

What's Wrong with a Little Destruction?  
The Wreckers

The continuing awesomeness of IDW's top strikeforce!

Notes: You know, I don't think I really had any actual groping between Wreckers. Not that that's what they're about, but it is still something that happens. So it's more gropey than flirty. Ah well.

* * *

25. Flirty Wreckers

_"I'm so horny the crack of dawn better watch out."  
-Tom Waits_

Twin Twist had half his body engulfed in Xantium's forward cannon, checking the cables and all the small bits when it happened. Something wrapped around his waist and yanked him out, twirling the driller with an audio-splitting _whoop_!

There was only one 'bot that got that obnoxiously excited.

"Slaggit, Topspin!" He cursed loudly, trying to pull the hover vehicle's arms away. "Put me down! I got work to do!"

"Nope!" Came the unrepentantly happy crow. Primus, he was in one of _those_ moods again.

"Spin- I'm serious. We're already behind on maintenance, I don't have time for this right now!"

But Topspin wasn't listening, his hands moving along the angles of Twin Twist's armor, snaking in between the gapes and tweaking against hinges and struts with wicked delight. The driller quivered in his hands and he could feel Topspin's smirk in the way his engine purred and air gusted over his back.

Damn him and his knowing Twin Twist's weaknesses. "Stop…" his vocalizer faltered, trying to think properly, "got… stuff," his vents whirled in an attempt to cool his systems down. "Springer'll kill us if it's not-" something scraped against his sensor grid and made his vocalizer glitch into a hard moan.

"You know what I did on patrol today?" Topspin asked in a voice of silk and lust. "I just went down a mountainside at half again terminal velocity, being shot at by Seekers carrying an information capsule Sandstorm had left for us. They knocked me into a ravine and I shot two of those slag-suckers down while free falling." He pulled the other jumpstarter tight against him so he could feel the needy pulses of his body. "I am on a high right now like you wouldn't believe."

G'ah- how did Topspin always know what to do or say that made Twin Twist's resolve buckle? Schedules and duties be damned.

"For the love of-"

The medic yelped loudly and whirled around, shoulders going back where a spanner pelted him between the stabilizers. Broadside glared at the two of them.

"We're on duty and we've got a long list to go through that I'm _not_ doing by myself just so you two can get off."

Topspin gave his best pout. "You could join in."

"No."

"But-"

"Go find Whirl. He's off shift."

"I tried, but he said he'd stab me if I didn't let him recharge."

He was trying his 'take pity on me, I'm horny' pout again. Broadside wasn't impressed. "Then go off ship. Don't tell me you can't find _anyone_ willing to overload you."

Topspin opened his mouth to whine, then shut it with a bright optics. "Oh- I think Blaster's off duty! He's always good for a quickie!" Cackling in triumph, Topspin bolted. Broadside leveled his stoic gaze on Twin Twist.

The driller's mouth twisted up to hold back an aggravated sigh. "Guess it's back to work." He didn't know who he hated more at the moment, Topspin or Broadside. Now _he_ really needed to get off.

* * *

Khareesa: Thank you! I'm glad to hear that!

Dreamchylde: I'm... actually a little surprised that people picked up Collide first. Which just makes me glee all the more XD

Flamingmarsh: Thanks! Didn't you start reading pretty late in the game? It must've been daunting with so many chapters to go through! o.O

Bookworm: I still have people favoriting It's Good to be Gangsta, you know that? I kinda wonder how people are still FINDING it XD I'm amused to find people that have read my stuff in other fandoms, too

Wills: So glad you liked it! Can you tell like poking at the socio- and physiological differences between humans and Cybertronians? XD

Contia Mirian: So Cafei is my pimp now? Sweet, I hope that means she has to take care of me XD

JML: I'm sure there's plenty of Cybertronians that are shocked that we've survived so long despite being so very fragile to susceptible to any little change. Lord knows I am when I really think about it.

CasusFere: I'm glad you joined in! And Springer is all about his being cool XDD

Cafei: (snerks) I'm sure Verity is far from the worst he's ever had to put up with!

Tiamat: I'm normally not a big fan of the human sidekicks (i'm generally ambivalent to them) but I do like the three they have in IDW for some reason. I guess because they're young and still think they're indestructible but they still get those utter freak-out moments. And they've got a good dynamic with each other (i would totally approve of a jimmy-verity-hunter threesome). It's actually kinda odd... on Twist's bio on Seibertron it mentions Spin being his brother but not on Topspin's...

Silveriss: As tickled as I get about hearing new people loving the Wreckers despite never hearing about them before Destruction, I'm always happy to know other people loved them in the comics, too! And yes- eat. It may help remind me that I need to, too...

Alana: They most definitely are! XD

Tomorrow: Dude, if he said that to me, I'd be kicking at his door and demanding out XDD

VAWitch: They really need to re-release Springer's toy. Or update him. But keep him with BOTH alt modes, dammit.

Dragowolf: I never really thought about if they were able to see while in alt mode or not but, really... it makes no sense that they could. What would they see out of? Which brings up two questionable bits in Infiltration (ratchet's attacks against thundercracker and bltizwing).

Guess: I haven't actually read either Tom Clancy or John Ringo (never actually heard of ringo) but I'm glad you're enjoying the stories!

Atalan: I'm sure Sandstorm will eventually get his head out of his ass (er, aft) but that's mainly going to be covered in You and I Collide which you can find on my favorites page.

Azure: I'm glad you're back! It's actually kinda good timing as I really haven't been able to get on at ALL for the past several weeks due to school. But I only have two days left and then it's sweet, sweet freedom! Until summer classes start.


	121. Special: Falling Back Wreckers

What's Wrong with a Little Destruction?  
The Wreckers

The continuing awesomeness of IDW's top strikeforce!

Notes: Wasn't my original intention when I was trying for something new, but there really does need to be more Xantium in here. Even just a little.

Also Note: Really short so I'll probably be tossing up another chapter in a day or so to make up for it.

* * *

Special: Falling Back Wreckers

_"Live so that your friends can defend you but never have to."  
-Arnold H. Glasgow_

Static crackled like surreal thunder in Xantium's empty halls.

"_-to the right, repeat -reaking through-_"

What wasn't static was yelling and chaos. Or, worse yet, silence.

"_-gency beacon bearing five niner two two-_"

"_-over run! Fall b- veryone, fall ba-_"

Xantium was suspended in high orbit, a sentinel as quiet and unmoving as space itself. The filtered noise of battle washed over her systems, beacons lighting violently across her sensor grid. She hung there and she watched. And she waited.

"_-been injured! We need a me-_"

"_-fortify the RZ, no one backs -rom this posit-_"

She hated the war, she hated fighting, but she agreed to be overhauled for battle because she hated being useless even more. And yet she hung back and waited and all she could do was listen to her mechs struggling and willing for their energy signatures to shine strong.

"_-use. Gotta call -ig gun-_"

She waited quiet, alert. She stayed patient and she hoped. But mainly she waited for that one moment-

"_Xantium…_"

-that one phrase.

"_…I'm sorry._"

Her internals thrummed with power.

"_We need you._"

She struck.

* * *

I'd feel really bad for my responses to the readers being longer than the drabble itself so while I'm replying to only some of them, I really do appreciate everyone for reviewing. Believe me, you've been keeping this thing going faaaar longer than I would have on my own!

JML: "It's a tough job getting groped by Topspin but someone's got to do it" kind of quote?

Flamingmarsh: Sorry to hear about your car! D: But at least you're getting good entertainment?

Dragowolf: I suppose it's a lesser explored aspect of Topspin XD He comes off as probably the most insatiable of the Wreckers just because he's always looking for a thrill and a good time wherever and however he can get it.

RachaelMNiner: I can't help it. As much as I like a good romance, Wreckers don't lend themselves well to to sweet waffy-ness. Besides, I like poking fun at them!

Silveriss: Somehow, I have the feeling (all things considered) that that was not the first time Twist has ever been in that situation...

Minipi: Man, I was cackling the entire time I was listening to The Dread, thanks for the rec XDDD Unfortunately I'm not taking anymore requests simply because I want to move my focus to other things, but if I come up with something regarding the two again, I'll put it up!

Orrunan: I know Hunter has at least a mother (and a sister that's moved out), Verity has no family and Jimmy's background isn't much explored except that he works at a garage (which is probably family owned judging by his dialogue). Don't know if I'll touch on that angle (though it is a good one to cover) but I'll keep the idea in mind.


	122. Request: Blurr and Wreckers

What's Wrong with a Little Destruction?  
The Wreckers

The continuing awesomeness of IDW's top strikeforce!

Notes: Request by Azure. This is the last of the requests, so if I missed anyone's, I'm sorry. We've still got a couple more prompts from the second set of 28 I had started, plus several more special chapters I'm going to add before we reach the end of this. Though, to be honest, I don't think this series will ever be _officially_ closed. I'll probably updated it sporadically whenever inspiration hits.

* * *

Request: Blurr and Wreckers

_"We don't leave anybody behind. We start together, and we finish together."  
-1st Sgt. Drew Benson_

"Anything yet?"

"Nope. Not a blip, not a signal. We're getting nothing."

Springer paced in irritation. It was getting far too close to the cut off for his comfort. "Where the hell is he?"

Scoop was doing something complicated with the sensor array, bouncing words back and forth with the detachment's comm officer like a foreign language. "We're running the scans at the strongest setting, we're not getting any readings."

"What about the perimeter?"

"Nothing's been tripped that wasn't a 'con."

The triplechanger's stride turned sharper, quicker, a direct correlation to his frustration at his helplessness. He opened his comm link to the Wreckers on the field. "Report."

"_Alpha reporting. No sign._"

"_Beta here. Sorry, Chief._"

"_Delta- still nothing._"

Springer growled to himself. "How much longer can the lot of you hold out?"

"_We've got the Decepticons bottlenecking for now. We're good to the end._"

"_There's 'cons going down our skidplates here. They're starting to push back the line._"

"_Air support's pinched thin. We're not going to last much longer._"

Mainframe, the detachment's commander, gave Springer a look. "We've got to evacuate. There's no two ways about it."

Springer just kept pacing, restless and wishing he were out in the fight instead of staying in the reserves. "He's still got time."

"Not enough. We should at least be seeing his energy signature _some_where."

"We're holding out for every klik we can."

Mainframe's optics glowed flatly. "That intel isn't important enough to risk everyone. We can-"

The Wrecker whirled, expression blazing. "I don't give a slotting hell about that information! You have a mech gone MIA out there, running a mission under _your_ orders and all you care about is the slagging data!"

The comm officer froze, watching Springer reaming his commander. Scoop just kept searching, running readouts through Xantium.

"Is that all that matters to you?" Springer seethed. "Slag all these 'bots trusting their lives to you- so long as you get what you want, who cares, right? Your rank comes with a responsibility to your command and being too much of a coward to accept that is no excuse!"

Mainframe trembled under the weight of Springer's anger. "I'm looking out for the good of the detachment-"

"The slag you are! Your detachment is your 'bots and if you keep sacrificing them for little bits of intel, you're not going to have much of a detachment left to-"

"Springer!" Scoop blurted out. "Xantium's got a fix on an emergency beacon!"

Mainframe banished from his mind, Springer was suddenly over the shovel's shoulder, peering into the screen. "Where?"

"Deep in Decepticon territory." With nimble fingers the orange mech brought it up on the monitor. "It's just barely getting through their scrambler's. Xantium can't isolate the signal enough to do an orbital jump, but it's definitely ours."

With a stride that was more of a run, Springer was moving toward the launchpad, "Delta, you're with me! I'm transmitting the location now! We're gonna airlift the mech out- he should be small enough to fit inside Broadside's cockpit."

Whirl's voice came over the comm, "_Understood. We'll meet you en route._"

The large triplechanger groused mildly on the other line. "_I hope he's not too badly damaged. I hate when they leak all over my interior._"

* * *

Xantium and Ark-13 left orbit with their respective crews. That is all but one of their respective crews who ended up being taken aboard Xantium with his escorts. It took almost two cycles of operating before Topspin was satisfied enough to allow visitors and Springer strode in with a distantly cool expression. "How are you feeling?"

"I'm good." Blurr said a little quickly, too distracted watching as Topspin was doing some superficial welds to his armor to pay attention to the pace of his words. "Intel was intact and uploaded. I hope it's useful, it was kind of a difficult run-"

"I'm not talking about that." The triplechanger all but snapped. "I'm talking about _you_. How are _you_ feeling?"

The blue speedster looked up with owlish optics. "Fine. Topspin's fixed me up nicely. The damage wasn't all that widespread all things considered. I didn't bleed too much in Broadside, did I?"

"Nothing some time in the washracks won't cure." The medic quipped. "Not that he needs an excuse to soak."

Springer just continued to stand there impassively. Blurr began to wonder if he did something wrong. "Did you realize the extent of the dangers of that mission?"

Blurr cocked his head to one side. "Well it _was_ a little worse than predicted-"

"You went behind enemy lines- right to their bunker –to steal intelligence while the rest of the detachment played up the attack as a distraction. How 'easy' were you expecting this to be?"

"I… guess I really wasn't expecting it to be easy. But Mainframe said it'd be no problem for me-"

Springer snapped. "It wouldn't have been a problem for your _speed_, but to get that fast and agile your armor is next to nothing! If any Decepticon got one decent lock on you, you'd be nothing but a greasy smear on the ground!"

"I know that." Was the soft reply. Topspin finished splicing some wires together in his arm and shut the access panel.

"Why did you take such a dangerous mission? And don't tell me it didn't seem that bad because I know you're not stupid."

"Because I had to." The speedster looked Springer calmly in the optics. "I had the best chance of surviving the mission over anyone else. Even if it were impossible, I'd still go again because that's the missions that I do. I'm the best one for the job." His expression turned confused. "Isn't that the same reason you do it?"

Though he didn't move his head Springer could feel Topspin's optics on him. The triplechanger grunted through his vents, unable to find a counter-argument. "We'll be at the Hub shortly. Be more careful in the future."

* * *

Not much to say this time around as my school's Spring Show is starting up soon and I believe I have a piece that's being displayed this year. Thanks to everyone that commented. I really do like writing for Xantium the rare times I'm able to. She certainly has it tough, not liking to fight but carting around and caring about a group who exists for it.


	123. Musical Wreckers

What's Wrong with a Little Destruction?  
The Wreckers

The continuing awesomeness of IDW's top strikeforce!

Notes: I wish I could do Flash animations. Because I would slave myself out to someone if they did this. And Jimmy totally strikes me as someone that could put on a one-man version of The Blues Brothers.

Also Note: My comp has been acting up on me more than usual and I don't have nearly enough to get a new one so I'm going to attempt something I've never done without my brother around to help my technical ineptness. That is, I'm going to nuke my computer and reinstall everything. Hopefully that'll solve my problem at least for a while. So my apologizes to those I chat with on IM but hopefully this won't take me long. When I get my comp working again, expect to see a new short series by me to pop up soon.

* * *

26. Musical Wreckers

_"There is a bit of insanity in dancing that does everybody a great deal of good."  
-Edwin Denby_

The humans' request to watch movies sounded harmless enough at the time but when Sandstorm paused to check up on them, Verity was curled up on the makeshift bed emitting some high-pitched noise and Jimmy-

"Slagging Pit. _Spin_! One of the humans is having convulsions!"

The two teens started as the walls of their box started retracting without warning and Topspin suddenly had a hand pressing Jimmy to the floor, peering closely at him as his medical sensors scanned the boy's body. Over Topspin's stabilizers, Sandstorm and Whirl peered down with equal parts concern (Sandstorm) and curiosity (Whirl).

"What is it?" The triplechanger asked. "Is it serious?"

Topspin frowned. "Asides from shallow breathing and an increase in pulse rate and endorphin levels- all within acceptable limits –he seems fine."

"No way. Maybe your sensors aren't calibrated correctly."

"What, suddenly you're an expert on biological entities?" Topspin snapped, insulted. "I know what I'm doing."

"I'm just saying. You know how many levels of slagged we'd be if Ratchet found out we let one of the humans go into seizure?"

"Hey," Whirl interrupted, "I think it's trying to say something."

"_He_ is, yes." Jimmy scooted back on his rear, wriggling out from under the medic's hand. "What's going on?"

"I was checking up on you two in the monitor," Sandstorm said, "and you were flailing around in pain."

The teens blinked. "I was what?" Suddenly Verity launched into peals of that high-pitched noise again. Whirl clutched at Sandstorm's arm.

"Primus- what _is_ that?"

Giving them an odd look, Jimmy told them, "She laughs like a chipmunk. It's not that weird." He turned to her, mouth twisted up. "_Why_ she's laughing, though…"

"Y-You!" She gasped. "Sh-sh… shaking your… tail feathers- HAHAHAHAHA!"

"Do what?"

"Tail feathers?"

"Humans don't have tail feathers, do they?"

Three sets of optics turned back on him and Jimmy's hands went protectively over his rear, keeping it as far from the Wreckers as he could. "Of course we don't!"

Verity calmed down enough to the point where she was mostly snickering. "They-they saw you dancing and thought you were having an epileptic fit!"

Jimmy slapped a hand over his eyes, flushing brightly. "Oh." The mechs cocked their heads to the side curiously and he gazed up at them from between his fingers. "You mean you don't dance where you come from?"

"We do sort of." Topspin, now that it was apparent his medical skills weren't needed, stood back. "Actually, a lot of our contemporary arts- especially those concerning music –were amalgamated from interesting bits we've picked up from other cultures."

"Yeah, that… whatever it was, we don't have anything like that."

Jimmy gave them a measured look. "So… _can_ you dance?"

"Sandy can't."

"Hey!"

Whirl gave Sandstorm what probably would've been a smug look if he had a proper face. "You really can't. You have no sense of rhythm and you don't have the flair for it."

The orange mech bristled. "So you do? And don't call me that, fragger."

"Please. I'm a helo. Rhythm is what I do."

Verity stood by Jimmy's shoulder, wide grin on her face. "You know what this means, right?"

"Yes. Yes, I do. Could we get the TV lowered?"

* * *

By the time Springer and Roadbuster had returned from their casing possible battlefields and discussing tactics, the little dance-off had grown considerably and was now an entire choreographed line.

Jazz, Scoop, Bumblebee, Topspin, Sandstorm, Wheeljack, Whirl, Jimmy and Verity danced under the Ark's main monitor as Ray Charles was signing out commands, "Do the fly! Do the swim, hahaha! And do the bird!"

The two Wreckers gaped at the mechs as they switched from the monkey to the watootsie until a hand forcibly dragged them from the scene. It took a hearty snarl to get them to switch focus onto the highly irate Ratchet, optics glowing with the intensity of star about to go nova.

"If your team burns out Prowl's logic circuits one more time," he warned, "I will make the rest of your existence _miserable_."

Ratchet stomped off, growling to himself and Springer and Roadbuster exchanged glances. Behind them, Ray Charles sang to the oblivious group, "Aaaaaaaaaah twist it! Shake it, shake it, shake it, shake it, baby!"

Roadbuster held up his hands. "I'm not touching this one."

"Scrap."

* * *

Rageai: I think, for the most part, all the characters have a legitimate purpose. You just have to... not depend on the cartoon to support that XD I can't recall exactly, but I think the Marvel UK comics actually did a not-terrible job with him. It's been a while since I went through them.

Azure: I'm glad you think I did him justice! Blurr was never a character I really thought much about so I basically stuck closer to the vision of him you told me about.

Dragowolf, Phantom, Tomorrow, Jason: Haha, that's the problem with 'bots like Springer. They'll berate others for getting in over their heads and then completely turn around and through themselves in the fire. They definitely need someone to smack them in the head and remind them when they're being hypocritical XD

Lily: Oh man, I tell ya- NO ONE is more surprised at the length this series has gotten than me. It boggles my friggin' mind.


	124. Strutting Their Stuff Wreckers

What's Wrong with a Little Destruction?  
The Wreckers

The continuing awesomeness of IDW's top strikeforce!

Notes: I don't know what's so fun about one-uping Blades, but it really is. Not that he doesn't sometimes deserve it. Also, for all his jerkiness, Whirl is surprisingly modest.

Also Note: My computer is up and running and everything seems to be going along nicely with it now. Hopefully it will keep with being nice for a year or so more. And if you haven't seen already, I've got a new short series up called Do You Know What it Feels like that's sort of a prologue to Spotlight Arcee. Of which a prologue is up right now. It's only going to be three chapters long (four, including prologue) so don't expect it to be this honking massive.

* * *

27. Strutting Their Stuff Wreckers

_"Modesty is my best quality."  
-Jack Benny_

It took almost a megacycle to get to the first major supply post and Whirl was so slagging _bored_. He had never, ever been so processor-freezing, Pit-raising, circuit-shatteringly _bored_ before in his entire existence.

Then again, he'd never been stuck in alt mode for so long, either.

He'd gotten hit hard during their last major push in a hot zone, but they'd won at least. That pacified Whirl to some degree. Except he still recalled getting hit with two incendiary missiles that not only melted through his armor but also fused some parts together, making it impossible for him to transform.

Topspin had at least gotten Whirl stabilized, but in the end he didn't have the tools or skills needed to fix him. As if that knowledge weren't enough, the closest supply depot happened to be under the command of the Protectobots. Despite the fact that Topspin's ego wasn't so big he'd refuse to ask First Aid to help one of his brothers, it still left him in a foul mood afterwards. Whirl didn't particularly mind the whole ordeal (asides from the boredom). He wasn't even at all concerned when it was pointed out that Blades would probably find a way onboard just to laugh at him.

A compromise was reached between the two medics (through their respective leaders). Topspin would help the techs triage the wounded that had come with them from the newly Decepticon-liberated planet while First Aid and a couple of engineers fixed up Whirl. As supplies were being brought aboard (and while Hot Spot wasn't looking) Blades did manage to sneak his way into the hangar where Whirl had been sitting since that last battle. If a helo could look curious, Whirl would have.

"Aw, lookit you." Blades sneered, towering over his double-rotored rival. "All damaged and useless. So what happened? Your ego-shield failed on you? Did a big, bad Decepticon actually try to attack and you panicked?"

A disinterest shrug colored Whirl's vocalizer. "I got hit. It sucked. It still does suck."

"So while you were stuck being cozy and pampered in the rear, all the real mechs were out fighting." Blade's white helmet lifted upwards imperiously. "I've been going out on the moveable roster, you know. I've been leading successful counters to Decepticon attacks while you've been lazing out in the hangars. So tell me, Lead Rotors, what could've _possibly_ taken down the high-n-mighty Whirl?"

"Nothing much. Just two missiles."

"That's it? No 'it was a fluke'? No 'I was busy terrorizing thirty other 'cons and they caught me off guard'?"

"Nope. It was a pretty good shot."

It was difficult to rub one's superiority in the face of someone that didn't care and Blades's ire rose dangerously. He was tempted to just rear back and kick Whirl in the landing struts but the timely arrival of Streetwise quelled that urge quick.

"There you are!" His teammate said, strolling up the ramp. "Hot Spot's been looking for you." None of them said if Hot Spot was really looking, Xantium's hangar would be the first place he'd go. "Groove's getting called out for a recon mission, you're gonna be taking over his monitor duty."

Blades snarled and just glared at the deck. Streetwise went over to Whirl to give him a look over, whistling lowly through his grill. "That's some heavy stuff you were hit with."

"Yeah. I thought it would never stop burning."

"By the way, Hot Spot says he's going to put in a letter of commendation to Optimus Prime for you."

"What?"

"What for?" Whirl was a surprised as Blades.

Streetwise cocked his head with a bemused smile. "He talked to some of the 'bots that came off that planet. They kept talking about the way you took those missiles like it was the most amazing thing they've seen this stellar cycle."

Blades was flabbergasted. "_What_?"

"You don't know? The Wreckers were helping to evac some bigwig politicians that got held hostage. While they were being airlifted out, the Decepticons shot a couple missiles at them and Whirl intercepted the blast."

Blades's jaw dropped. Whirl shifted on his landing struts. "I just didn't have time to deploy any chaffs, nothing spectacular. If I get a commendation for that, Prime will be handing out dozens of them every time we deploy."

The white interceptor merely shrugged, growing more and more amused with Blades's incredulous expression. "Just relaying the word is all. Anyway, Blades, we gotta go. Work to be done."

"…yeah." A little dazed, the helo followed after.

Whirl couldn't help it. He normally wouldn't because he didn't see much of a point but this was Blades. That automatically made it worth adding insult to injury. "Before you go, Blades?"

"What?"

One could just imagine the _grin_ spread all over his words. "Top that."

* * *

JML: Hell, _I_ think some of those dances are seizure induced and I'm used to seeing weird dances!

Dragowolf: It doesn't help Prowl any when they'll find any excuse to mess with him (though it was fairly unintentional in that last chapter). And Springer will be the first to admit that there's no controlling the Wreckers. The most you can do is point them in the right direction and let them have at XD

Bookworm: There actually is a Hare Hare Yukai video using Transformer toys. I laughed myself sick when I first watched it.

Lily: It... is? I've been known to focus on one character or group of characters in other series before and just pound out stuff revolving around him/her/them. Though I think, in regards to focusing on a particular group, this still far surpasses all my others in terms of how much I've actually written.

Pyrinsomniac: Yeah, I've seen her stuff before. Her dA work and her ffnet stuff is really hilarious.

Dytabytes: Wow! Four hours? That's... even more massive then I thought o.O! But yeah- Broadside got royally shafted in his bios. His original toy essentially has him rendered useless in both alt modes (a sea-sick aircraft carrier and an acrophobic jet, c'mon) and DW made him an utter whiner (is no long sea-sick or acrophobic but complains about it anyway? fuck the what, dreamwave). Though, to be honest, I don't think those have actually MENTIONED anywhere outside his bios.

To everyone else: Thanks for reading and enjoying and getting over 1000 REVIEWS SWEET GIBBLY GIBLETS! Seriously. I should've thought about doing something special for the occasion. Like, y'know, I was gonna for 100 chapters...


	125. Playing with Animals Wreckers

What's Wrong with a Little Destruction?  
The Wreckers

The continuing awesomeness of IDW's top strikeforce!

Notes: For some reason I was picturing One Piece's Sea Kings when I was writing this. Which would be such an awesome WTF crossover as there ever was. And I know early bios of Broadside has him both afraid of heights and seasick. But as that seems really _stupid_ to me (especially the seasick part) and in Stormbringer he showed no aversion to flying, I'm dropkicking that out the window.

Also Note: Because of the shortness of this chapter (and... the chapter after) expect the next one to be up tomorrow. Just to be nice.

* * *

28. Playing with Animals Wreckers

_"You were once wild here. Don't let them tame you."  
-Isadora Duncan_

By the time Scoop trudged himself up the beach he was exhausted, annoyed and had grit in the joints that didn't have air seals. Three of the Wreckers' fliers were already on the beach and Twin Twist dragged himself out of the sea and hacked up some water from his vents. The shovel started pulling bits of coral from his armor.

"Ten miles," he growled, "is a lot longer when you're under water."

Whirl nodded his head, looking out into the distance. "Spin's finally fished out RB."

"When RB sinks, he really sinks." Sandstorm added.

Springer looked at his two waterlogged Wreckers. "How was Broadside?"

"Fine." Twin Twist extracted something long and slimy that got tangled up in the hinges of his feet. "Looked like he was having a good time."

The others shook their heads. Cybertronians- the ones that had no ability to float (which was anything that wasn't a hover vehicle or nautically built) had a natural aversion to water as a general rule. Broadside's love of oceans boggled their sensibilities.

Topspin was bobbing low in the water, hampered by Roadbuster's weight as he eased them to shore. "Want me to get Side?" He called out.

About that time a huge serpentine creature broke out of the water, reared into the air and crashed back down in a flurry of waves. It was just big enough for Broadside to wrap his arms and legs around it. Even across the distance they could hear his enthusiastic whooping like a rodeo rider.

"Nah." Springer said finally, a little smile on his lips. "Let him have some fun."

"Showboat." Roadbuster muttered. Then he dumped a couple gallons of water out of his internals.

* * *

Flamedancer: Wow... uh, take care of yourself o.o Seriously, I hope things are better (and stay better) now.

LOTR Lover: If you're lucky, maybe your psychiatrist will let you use a computer? :D?

Dragowolf: Whirl and cute? Haha, that's a new one to me! Even when he's being modest I still think he's a jerk XD (not that that really means much as i still love him anyway)

Rageai: I don't know about his being a good guy underneath it all but he certainly does love his job! I imagine him being pretty apathetic about most things, myself. If he likes something, he's all over it. If he doesn't- meh, he'll certainly let you know!

Everyone else: In an attempt to not make my replies longer than the drabble (which i probably failed anyway, short drabble is short), thank you for reviewing! I'm sure Whirl would be smug at all the cheers if, y'know, he wasn't a jerk XD


	126. Special: Flawed Wreckers

What's Wrong with a Little Destruction?  
The Wreckers

The continuing awesomeness of IDW's top strikeforce!

Notes: Another chapter showing the unfortunate realities of war.

Also Note: So I lied about getting a chapter up yesterday. Suffice to say, instead of coming back from work and checking my stuff before bed, I came back from work and crashed out it was that terrible. Which I guess is fitting since it's a kinda angsty chapter.

* * *

Special: Flawed Wreckers

_"It doesn't matter if a Marine is following orders and ROE, or disregarding them. The fact is, as soon as a Marine pulls the trigger on his rifle, he's on his own. He's entered a game of moral chance. When it's over, he's as likely to go down as a hero or as a baby killer."  
-Evan Wright, Generation Kill  
_  
"I said sector one-five!" Whirl snapped, irritated that the whole thing had gone so badly and that he had been called in to take the blame. "The enemy is in sector one-five and no where else! That was in our briefing!"

"How was I supposed to know you hadn't found something intel overlooked?" Broadside's large arms were crossed over the great expanse of his chest. His conviction had steadily dwindled the entire time and now he was merely defensive, trying to protect his own conscience.

"You think, if I found one enemy building in a civilian sector, I would've sent someone of your size, speed and payload to hit it? My armaments are much more precise- I could've just gutted the building instead of blowing up the whole slagging block!"

"That's enough." Springer said firmly. His hands were laced before him as he sat behind his desk. At his shoulder, rumbling quietly, was Roadbuster. "I know things got frantic out there, but transmissions are repeated twice to help reduce confusion. That's SOP. You both know that."

The two Wreckers hesitated, but nodded, conceding to that fault. "All orders, until further notice," he continued, "will be repeated back to the issuer to ensure clarity. Spread that to the rest. That is all."

Whirl strode out quickly, muttering something in annoyance as he went. Broadside stayed behind. "Springer," he gruffed with ill-concealed guilt, "what did I hit?"

"Nothing."

"Don't think you have to protect me from my own mistakes. What did I hit?"

Broadside was among the most nurturing and supportive of the Wreckers. Despite his great size and power, the idea of killing innocent civilians, beings that just wanted to go on with their lives, that couldn't defend themselves, disturbed him.

"It's nothing."

"Springer-"

The green triplechanger's optics glowed stern and cold. "Leave it, Broadside."

He struggled to quell the urge to argue and, with great restraint, nodded his head and left. As the doors closed Springer keyed in commands to Xantium to lock that information away from everyone unless they were given his authorization. Perhaps it was wrong for him to do so, but for Broadside- for any of them –Springer would bear the burden of their mistakes on his own before he'd let them break under its weight.

Roadbuster leaned down and asked, "Wasn't there a trauma center on that block?"

Springer didn't flinch or falter. "It's nothing."

* * *

I apologize for the fact that sleep didn't exactly improve my mood from last night so while no replies this chapter, I do very much appreciate everyone for reviewing and continuing to enjoy the series.


	127. Special: Compromising Wreckers

What's Wrong with a Little Destruction?  
The Wreckers

The continuing awesomeness of IDW's top strikeforce!

Notes: More slight Sandy/Flight reference!

* * *

Special: Compromising Wreckers

_"I'm not concerned with your liking or disliking me. All I ask is that you respect me as a human being."  
-Jackie Robinson_

If there was ever a mech that lived up to their name it was Livewire. He had the knack of blurting out the most tactless thing at the worst times and all-round not caring a whit for anything. Livewire was not a well-liked mech by any standards and probably had as many enemies in the Autobots ranks as he did in the Decepticons. Livewire, of course, did not care about that, either. Which was why he was tearing down on Fireflight in the middle of the hangar deck where anyone could watch.

It started out with Livewire yelling at the Aerialbot for nearly running into him while they were in the air, then Livewire grousing on the entire Aerialbot ego and that half of them didn't rate being called the Autobots' top fliers and Fireflight least of all.

At first Fireflight had tried to give off some stuttered apology, even protested about the snide remarks about his wingmates and that just made Livewire lay it on harsher than before, criticizing the red jet himself. Then Fireflight just got real quiet and looked like he was trying to shrink in on himself. And _that_ made Livewire even hotter because- seriously, how could anyone be so slagging _pitiful_-

"Is there a problem?"

The sharp not-question broke into Livewire's rant and both jets jumped at Springer's sudden appearance. Livewire faltered, words jammed up in his mouth as he tried to speak.

"It's nothing." Fireflight said with a forced smile. "Just another close call in the air."

Springer's cool optics slide over to Livewire who merely shrugged as nonchalantly as possible in return. "Well, then, don't the both of you have somewhere to be? I believe," he told Fireflight, "Sandstorm picked up some knick-knack he wanted to show you."

"R-Right." The Aerialbot stepped back and tried to give Livewire an apologetic smile that was pointedly ignored. "Sorry about what happened."

"Hn."

The red jet hurried out of the hangar and Livewire turned to go his own way but a voice- too used to being obeyed for anyone to ignore –said, "Hold it."

The other mech froze as Springer came up next to him, hands clapped onto his hip components. He kept a deliberate buffer of space between himself and the yellow jet.

"Lemme give you some friendly advice because it looks like you're in dire need of it." The triplechanger purred lowly. "You do not want to hurt any of mine. There is no coming back from that. By proxy, this includes those that are dear to them. If you can't respect them as a fellow Autobot, you will respect them as someone important to my Wreckers."

"Or what?" Livewire sneered with far less conviction now that those piercing optics were cutting into him. "You'll track me down and rip me apart?"

A cold smile slowly crawled over Springer's lips. "Normally, perhaps. But in this case I'd let the Aerialbots get first crack. If there's anything left after them, I may consider having mine go easy on you."

With a final razor grin, Springer gave a cordial nod before leaving the hangar, still deliberately making no aggressive movements towards the jet. Not that he had to. Livewire heard stories of what happened to 'bots that had been relentlessly hateful of the Wreckers, Arcee or Hot Rod. There would be no physical pain of any sort that made him as fearful as his own imagination.

And if Springer was content in getting the leftovers from the Aerialbots, Livewire couldn't even begin to imagine what the jets would do to him.

* * *

Azure: Oh, someone will have to answer for it. Springer will take it himself. Broadside realized he did wrong and for the mere fact that Springer wouldn't tell him what it was, he knew he fucked up big time. If he knew what was destroyed, it would probably devastate him and Springer realizes that. I know there's plenty of actual people that wouldn't be bothered by something like that but... I just... I don't know how they're able to live with themselves.

Tomorrow, Anhai, Pyrinsomniac: That drabble was loosely based off the chapter that quote came from where a Marine was told to shoot at something suspect and ended up shooting a couple of small boys. It was... a very painful chapter. You got to see so many different reactions to the event- some of which made you want to smack the people around -but the sergeant that told the Marine to shoot took the brunt of the mistake on himself. He was the one that gave the order and it's obvious the thing shook up a lot of people.

People in their position can't afford to make mistakes. When they do, someone could die. That's a helluva thing to have to carry around with you.


	128. Special: Compassionate Wreckers

What's Wrong with a Little Destruction?  
The Wreckers

The continuing awesomeness of IDW's top strikeforce!

Notes: Takes place not long after Scoop joins the Wreckers.

Also Note: My creativity has plunged greatly since the last week or two of school- both writing and drawing. All I've been putting up recently was all back-logged stuff I wrote a while back (thank goodness for that foresight). School will be starting up again tomorrow (later today) for me. If I'm lucky I'll figure out I'm one of those people that are more creative under stress. Except for, obviously, the part where my creativity drags me away from doing my homework. Catch-22 much?

* * *

Special: Compassionate Wreckers

_"To care for anyone else enough to make their problems one's own, is ever the beginning of one's real ethical development."  
-Felix Adler_

Hardline stared up at the sky like she could do nothing but watch explosions rend the dark smoke apart. Somewhere a missile cracked open (or maybe it was thunder) and flashed over wings that cleaved across her vision. The world flickered around her, her dying energy signature drowned under the deluge of Decepticons swarming over the terrain. She had no arms to hold a weapon but was too afraid to permanently shut down. She still hoped that someone would come for her, even as her HUD slowly counted down each system as they failed on her.

Even with her automated repairs having cinched off the fuel lines to her arms, scores of valves had broken, leaving her to bleed out internally. Every once in a while something sparked sharp under her torso armor but Hardline couldn't turn her head to see what it was. She lay, broken and dying and had never felt so utterly alone in her existence. It scared her. The thought that after death there'd be just a vast _nothingness_ scared her. If no one else, she'd be happy enough to see a Decepticon. At least then she'd know that she still existed.

What was left of Hardline's foot- a burnt, ragged stump from the knee that abruptly ended around the ankle –twitched errantly. "Someone," she whispered, "help me."

Something moved across Hardline's scanners and she recycled her optics. Somehow the dark orange sky had turned to twilight when she didn't notice. Her scanners flicked again and the signal it read was Autobot. She tried to ping the signal on her comm but the femme found her comm systems had been offlined so she called out weakly. Hardline could barely hear herself and tried again and again. Her vocalizer gained a little more power with each word, but she was so afraid it wouldn't be enough so she kept calling out-

"Shh," a gentle hand covered over her mouth and Hardline tried to focus on the face on the other end of the arm. "It's alright, I've got you."

It was a Wrecker, one of the younger ones, that much she knew. She watched him look over the ruins of her body and the press of his lips told her what she already knew.

"I'm going to die." She told him brokenly. But now that he was here, she wasn't afraid of it anymore.

"No." He looked down at the mess of her body. Tentatively he put a hand to her hip. "You're going to be okay."

"Are you a medic?" The pause said as much as the shaking head did. "Is your medic nearby?" His head shook again. She tried to smile at him but her faceplates were bubbled from the heat of the explosion that had taken her arms. "It's okay. I don't mind."

The young mech wasn't pacified by her acceptance. "You're going to pull through. I'll take you back to HQ and you'll get patched up-"

"Where is the rear?"

"..."

"It's far away, isn't it? There's too many Decepticons around for you to carry me and not get caught, aren't there?"

"..."

"Don't worry about me. I'll take care of you."

Hardline wished she had hands so she could squeeze his as she told him, "You should go. It's too dangerous for you to stay here."

"I'm not going to leave you here."

"Thank you for coming back for me. I'm not scared to die anymore."

"I'm not leaving you here."

Her distorted smile faded. "If you stay, you'll get caught."

"I'm a Wrecker. You think that possibility bothers me?"

"……no." She said evenly. "But I won't let you put yourself in danger on my behalf." Hardline tilted her chin up to indicate the mech to come in closer. "If you could do me one last favor…"

* * *

"_Springer- we've got him on our scopes. He's on his way in._"

The triplechanger barely bit back a snarl as he stalked to the main gate just as a mech drove in and slowly transformed. "Scoop-" Springer's entire attitude abruptly switched as he took in the weary expression on the shovel's faceplates. "Are you hurt?"

Scoop shook his head. "I found the missing femme, Hardline." His optics settled on a point on the floor, faded. "I couldn't save her. Couldn't even bring back her body. Just this." Scoop reached into a compartment and brought out a small cranial unit. "It was the best I could do." He said lamely.

Springer took the cranial unit and Scoop's arm dropped listlessly back at his side. He watched as Scoop's composure barely held together. Tucking away the cranial unit, Springer wrapped the smaller mech in his arms. "You did good."

A rumbled snort was his reply. "Did I? She had a sister assigned to Ark-20 she hadn't talked to since she came to this outpost. I was right there with her and she had family and the only thing I could do was kill her because she wanted to protect _me_."

"But you stayed with her. She didn't have to suffer on her own. She knew that you cared. Sometimes the only thing we can do is just be with someone. It's harsh, but if that's the best we're capable of, then that's what we'll do."

Scoop stood inside Springer's arms, wanting so much to draw comfort from him and his words. His arms came up and clutched at the green mech's back. Scoop buried his face against Springer's neck and he sobbed.

* * *

Hikari: Sorry, I'm not taking any more request. Actually, as it is, I can't even say I'd do a very good job with Bumblebee. He's one of those characters that I never really use and I've seen so many different variations of him, I wouldn't even know how to... I'm amused that people seem reluctant to use Wreckers more- they're so much fun! And open to interpretation! I'd love to see other people try them out- either using my own versions as a base or coming up with their own dynamic. I'm hardly a canonical source, after all XD

Azure: I can't help it. Flight's endeared to me too much to ignore him for long!

Tiamat: (snorts!) Haha, probably! Maybe if the Aerialbots are nice enough, they'll let Sandstorm join them!

ToaVeka: Everest? Oh, that's gotta be a fun story to tell XD

VAWitch: What can I say? They're a very possessive bunch! Especially when the poor guy (Flight) doesn't deserve the jerks that bother them.

Guess: Bwahahaha! I'm so tempted to ask why he warrants the title 'Crack Fairy'...

Everyone else: Thank you for the reviews! I'm glad so many people are protective of Flight! Or at least recognize that bashing an Aerialbot is a quick ticket to Painsville XD


	129. Special: Flailing Wreckers

What's Wrong with a Little Destruction?  
The Wreckers

The continuing awesomeness of IDW's top strikeforce!

Notes: As completely awesome as they are, you know I can't make them badass ALL the time…

* * *

Special: Flailing Wreckers

_"Okay, idiot, let's assume I'm wrong. Let's assume there are bats. So what? You're wearing state of the art, biomechanical body armor. It's designed to deflect bullets and absorb explosions. What can a five-ounce flying rodent possibly do?"  
-Gustavo Sorola, Red vs Blue  
_  
Whirl peered into the darkness and tried to make sense of the shapes being filtered into his optic. He gave up trying and turned on a low-frequency light.

"Argh! Primus- _warn_ me next time!"

Whirl managed to quell the temptation to swing his head (and therefore the light) to where Twin Twist had a hand over his optics and was trying to recalibrate them. "You know my night vision isn't as strong as yours." And even if the place was fairly airy, it was still small enough and deep enough underground that it made Whirl's radar fritz just enough to not give him a certain idea as to the layout. That, in turn, made him highly agitated.

He swept the light over the floor, part hard bedrock, part metallic support. The Decepticons had been forcibly ejected from the planet, but this particular mine- which all sensors said was in stable, safe condition and had not been exhausted to even half its resources –had been abandoned well before then. Curiosity was a trait none of the Wreckers were immune to and they'd split up to explore the various branches (all, that is, except for Broadside who was too big to go beyond the main cavern).

The tunnel Whirl and Twin Twist were exploring ended up twisting away further from the others and, according to Twin Twist, was the last one to be carved out. "Whatever made them stop mining," he had said, "would probably be down this way."

Twin Twist, being their underground authority, naturally was chosen to head down it. Whirl, whose earlier curiosity overrode his claustrophobia, volunteered to go with him which was somewhat of a shock to the others. Whirl, of course, wouldn't admit it was because his curiosity subsided enough for said claustrophobia to rear its frightening head again but was still too proud to request staying back with Broadside. Besides, logically speaking, the safest place to be in a mine was with someone that was created to spend his entire life in one rather than a bunch of nosey mechs whose collective knowledge was to not touch anything questionable.

"That way." Twin Twist pointed towards the wall. Whirl shone the light in that direction but saw nothing asides from rock. As they approached, though, he saw an indentation that lead to another branch. With the driller leading the way the both of them peered into the vast dark and took a careful step inside.

If Whirl could, he would've blanched as he crouched at Twin Twist's back, peering out between his drills. "Ugh, what _are_ those things?"

Twin Twist peered down at the creatures, scanners probing the slithering things. "Dunno. But are they ever fragging ugly."

The things twisted around and wiggled some odd phalanges at them. Whirl raised his hands to cover his light. "Is the light attracting them?" He thought underground and nocturnal creatures were supposed to be overly sensitive to light.

"No, look- they don't have any optic receptors." Twin Twist looked around the room and saw more of the things slithering out from a power generator that- according to the residual heat picked up by his sensors –had only recently been powered down. "They're being attracted by our heat signature and probably our vibrations."

"Why? Can't we scare them away?" Whirl's vocalizer grew progressively more panicked as the things slowly, but with much determination, closed in.

"They're probably just looking for a warm place to congregate."

"Well they're not congregating on me! Look at that! They're trailing… _stuff_!"

"Whirl, would you stop being such a- graaaah!" Twin Twist suddenly jumped back, nearly tripping on the helo in the process. He shook his foot like a Pit-spawn had grabbed at his ankle. "Oh, that's not right!"

"What? What?"

"It tried climbing into my ped!" He shuddered violently. "It was cold and slimy and- guh!"

"Good. We made friends. Can we g-!!" Anything else Whirl was going to say was cut off in a garbled shriek that nearly went supersonic. He stumbled away from Twin Twist, arms flailing wildly. "Get it off! Getitoffgetitoffgetitoff!"

Two of the things had managed to jump onto Whirl, one slipping over the slick glass of his cockpit, the other attempting to crawl into the vent just behind his right shoulder. The first one was flung off from lack of traction and by Whirl's manic dance, the other Twin Twist had to pin down a lanky arm to try to reach.

"Calm down, alright! Just stop and I can reach it!" The first time he grabbed it, Twin Twist jerked back as the freezing slime seeped in between his metacarpal plating. Whirl wailed as he felt the thing's… head? go into his vent. Twin Twist bit the proverbial bullet, grabbed the thing's whatever-it-was and yanked it out, tossing it back into the middle of a now impressively large congregation of its kin.

"Let's get outta here," Whirl rumbled in a haze, "let's go, we gotta get out."

"They're just disgusting, they're not hurting any-" he realized Whirl wasn't looking at him, but the ceiling. Twin Twist looked up to find _more_ of those things slithering over head. "…oh frag me. Jinkout!"

They both scrambled out and Whirl nearly went down the wrong turn if Twin Twist didn't grab his arm and dragged him back toward the main path. Even if he wasn't built for prolonged running, Whirl's longer legs had him easily outpacing Twin Twist. Up ahead they saw the artificial light glint off Broadside's cockpit and he bent down low, wondering what in the world had them running like all hell was breaking loose. He had both hands on his rifle, trying to see what was chasing after them.

"Side!"

"Thank Primus!"

"Wha- hey!" Broadside went back half a step as Twin Twist clutched at triplechanger's leg and Whirl scrambled up his wrist to wrap himself around Broadside's thick arm. "What's gotten into you two?"

"Keep them away for the love of all things holy-"

"Disgusting, _vile_ things-"

"I can still feel them _crawling_ on me-"

"So Primus-fragging many!"

"I hate the underground! I hate the underground!"

"C'mon." Broadside groused, reaching around in an attempt to pry Whirl from his arm. The helo wasn't having it. "Seriously. What's got you so spooked?"

"These… _things_!"

"What things?"

"_Those_ things!"

Broadside looked down the tunnel where the two had fled from and increased his light enhancer. He saw something undulating in the distance and realized it was a score of small, shapeless objects that was coming at them. Okay, so there was a damn lot of those things, but that couldn't possibly be what shook up his teammates, right?

Except the two just started babbling pleas at Broadside to kill them, burn them, just don't let them come any closer for Primus sake! Sparing them a brief, flabbergasted look, Broadside switched his rifle to wide-spread burst and fired it down the tunnel. Those that didn't get cut down quivered, then crawled backwards uncertainly.

"Alright, they're gone." He rumbled. "Now will one of you tell me-"

Whirl and Twin Twist jerked their heads up as they felt a full-body shudder vibrate through Broadside. "What is it? What's wrong?"

He replied in a voice that the kind of measured and tight that said he was going to freak the frag out in a nano-klik, "Something. Just went. Down my neckring." Before the smaller mechs could do more than give him an 'oh slag' look, Broadside's body had another spasm and then he started dancing wildly around. "Argh! It's cold and it's dripping something and it's _crawling all over my internals_!"

Suddenly, having clung to such massive limbs didn't seem like a good idea. "Side!" Twin Twist yelped, trying not to get kicked off. "Stop!" Being flailed somewhere overhead, Whirl was muttering prayers to himself.

"Get it out! It's crawling around in my compressor! _Get it out_!" He howled, taking Whirl and Twin Twist on a ride neither wanted to experience _ever again_. They hoped Broadside didn't spin up his engine. They didn't want to know how bad he'd fritz having some gooey organic suddenly ALL OVER his insides.

* * *

Springer looked at him as if Twin Twist seriously expected him to be that stupid. "Explain to me again how the tunnel collapsed."

The driller complied with as much bearing as he could dredge up. "The tunnel Whirl and I went down had gas pockets that our scanners didn't pick up. We only realized it after we came across some of their equipment and attempted to activate their back-up generator. It caused a small explosion that took out some key structural supports and brought down the tunnel." Like hell he was going to stick with the actual story, no matter how many times Springer pressed.

The mech in question didn't seem any more convinced on the validity of this than he was the first three times he heard it. Behind him Scoop was continuing to investigate some of the automated machinery the Decepticons had left behind.

The silence stretched on and Twin Twist felt compelled to say something. "Broadside took Whirl back up to the surface for some air and open space."

"Understandable."

Continuing on in his perfect soldier routine (which, when anyone but Roadbuster did that, was an automatic giveaway that they weren't being entirely honest) Twin Twist said, "There's nothing worthwhile here and if there was one dangerous section of the mine it's highly likely there may be others. Request permission to pull the others out?"

Springer looked at him in a long, measured moment. There was really nothing for them to gain or lose here and if Twin Twist of all 'bots wanted out, well… it was probably for the best. "Very well. Scoop and I will rejoin you on the surface once he's done checking out the equipment."

Twin Twist snapped to attention. "Yessir!" He did a smart about-face and strode out. As soon as he turned the corner he ran down the other tunnel to grab Topspin, Sandstorm and Roadbuster to get them the hell out of there.

The sound of something being unscrewed drew Springer's attention and he turned to see Scoop crouched on the ground. "What's up?"

"I'm picking up a faint heat signature from this generator." The orange mech said. "For whatever reason it was left on but there's also a strange noise coming out of it. We should probably disable it, just in case it's something that might be able to ignite another pocket of gas."

Springer didn't know if Scoop seriously bought that, but he just walked up and leaned over to give Scoop a little more light to work with. With smooth handling the panel easily came off and as it was set aside the two Wreckers recoiled.

"What the-"

"What is that?"

Scoop leaned down and forward in a sort of morbid fascination. "Wow. There's an awful lot of them in there…"

* * *

Dragowolf: Yeah, those are two of the things that scare me the most- being helpless and dying alone.

Jason: I... did not intent to put something depressing when something equally upsetting happened. But at least he didn't die alone or in pain.

Sunstreaker: I don't know if you've managed to get up to this chapter yet (it's very daunting- i'm honestly surprised people are still willing to tackle them all!) but thanks for hoping on board! I wouldn't exactly call myself a Wrecker guru, but Topspin turns into some kind of Cybertronian hover vehicle which- as is aptly observed by Teletraan-1 -very much resembles a brick. With wings.

To all: Thank you for reviewing that last chapter! Hopefully this one brightens up the last couple chapters!


	130. Special: Impressed Wreckers

What's Wrong with a Little Destruction?  
The Wreckers

The continuing awesomeness of IDW's top strikeforce!

Notes: Takes place long after Prowl and Springer. Can't say I'm happy with the execution, but I just wanted the idea out of my head.

* * *

Special: Impressed Wreckers

_"Knowing is not enough; we must apply. Being willing is not enough; we must do."  
-Leonardo da Vinci_

"I've got fire comin' in on my 5!"

"Visual confirmed- there's two of 'em!"

Roadbuster spun around a corner, briefly lifting off two wheels. "Copy that, I'm in bound now!" The alley fell away into an open square where the rough, churned up dirt turned into shifting drifts. As he came around, Roadbuster saw Twin Twist barrel across the field, bullets deflecting off his thick armor. In alt mode he was nearly an impenetrable force. The gunner, crouched down behind some rubble, fired doggedly on Twin Twist. Until, that is, Sandstorm swung back around, this time in ground mode. Not nearly as heavily armored as either Twin Twist or Roadbuster, his speed, maneuverability and aim made him a far more difficult target to get a lock on.

With their opponents' attention split between the two, Roadbuster went for full burn, launching a missile that made the gunner's cover fall over on him and the flung the other fighter forward into the dirt and nearly beneath Twin Twist's drills. Even from the distance Roadbuster heard him swore and backpedal from the driller. He leapt over a mound of dirt, spun around, knelt and fired off a blast from his shoulder canon, slapping down at the dirt at the same time.

Before Roadbuster could shout out a warning, Twin Twist snapped into biped mode, leaping clear of the rocket. Another fighter burst out of the mound, catching Twin Twist in the midsection and slammed him into the ground. The other fighter looked between Roadbuster and the gunner that was trying to push off the rubble, hesitating between engaging and assisting. When Sandstorm took to the air, however, to get a better angle of fire on the trapped mech, the fighter scrambled to free his comrade.

Strong black hands tossed the debris away, letting the gunner lift up just enough to fire his two shoulder mounted rockets at Sandstorm. He intercepted them with chaffs and before he could dive through the black smoke, he found the fighter suddenly on his nose cone and pounding a fist against his cockpit. With Sandstorm out of range and the risk of hitting Twin Twist too great for Roadbuster to chance it, he charged at the gunner who, in turn, aimed…

…at the ground.

Roadbuster skidded on his tires, swinging around almost in a half-circle, desperately trying to change direction. The rocket hit several meters away from him, but the explosion created a chain reaction that caused the ground around him to detonate. Lines of damage and system failures scrolled across his HUD and the last thing he saw before he went into stasis lock was Sandstorm crashing down, taking the gunner, fighter and himself out in a point-blank missile attack.

Twin Twist's body locked up and twitched erratically for a moment, then went deathly limp. His opponent stumbled backwards, falling on his aft in the dirt. He looked around, wide-optic at the silent battlefield. "We did it," he realized numbly, "we did it." He put his hands to his scraped helmet, shock coloring his words as his voice grew louder. "We finally did it!" He fell on his back, raising his fists into the air and shouted as loud as he could. "_We finally beat the Wreckers_!"

"Um… I got kinda blown up, though."

"Yeah. And I'm pretty sure- if I'm even still alive –that I'd be bleeding out fast right about now."

He turned to look at his companions- one trapped under Sandstorm, the other tossed into a drift –and snorted. "Well _I_ survived. That's the important part." Honestly. Leave it to those two to ruin a crowning achievement with their groaning.

The one half buried in the ground idly kicked a leg. "Thanks, Sunny. I'm glad you care."

"Could someone get Sandstorm off me? He's really heavy."

"Aw, but Blue," the triplechanger retorted, "hasn't anyone ever told you you make a comfortable landing pad?"

"No, really. You're very heavy. And I think that's a gun turret jammed up in my wheel well."

"Where the frag is Topspin? I'd like the ability to move here in the next cycle." Twin Twist groused.

Said medic made his leisurely way across the practice field, looking over the destruction with a practiced optic. "What, I can't admire a sound aft-kicking?" Roadbuster growled dangerously. "I mean- a lucky aft-kicking." He smoothed with an unrepentant smile. The second continued to growl until Topspin decided the wise decision would be to reset his patch first.

After all six patches were reset and Topspin began repairing any actual injuries sustained, Springer came down to join them. "I am impressed," he admitted to the twins and Bluestreak. He put a hand on the gunner's chevron and gave it gentle shake. "The three of you have really come a long way."

In actuality the three of them hadn't been a team in a while, but even so they were determined to beat their former trainers at least _once_, no matter how long it took. Even if Prowl never outright said anything about it, he was glad the Wreckers encouraged them to continue to work together, despite their responsibilities splitting them up. Bluestreak showed a surprising aptitude for small group leadership and the twins were arguably the best close-quarters fighters in the army. And yet, even anti-social Sunstreaker was willing to work with the smaller mech just to finally win one over the Wreckers.

"Next time, though," Sideswipe flexed his hand, testing the cleaning Topspin did of the joints, "we're going to have a flawless victory."

Sandstorm and Twin Twist burst out laughing. "Yeah right! This was a one-time thing! You're not beating us again!"

Bluestreak wagged a finger at them. "Oh no- we've got your number now! You're looking at the new top mechs!"

Springer stood back, watching the lot of them bantering with each other and he couldn't help smiling. Those three had grown so much in ways Springer wouldn't have anticipated before working together. Bluestreak's earlier hesitance and self-consciousness had almost entirely vanished. He was more decisive in battles and unafraid to have fun. Sideswipe, used to never having to worry about himself or his brother, had mellowed some when he suddenly found himself having to deal with a timid mech that needed his support and protection. Even Sunstreaker displayed a surprising amount of patience working with Bluestreak. After his initial anger at having to 'deal with a fledgling' he took the time to actually instruct the young mech in battle (claiming it was because he didn't want Bluestreaking screwing up with their team dynamic and getting them all killed than because he had any attachment to him, which no one really believed). Even if he still wasn't exactly a team player, Sunstreaker had become a little more tolerant of working with those that weren't his brother. Springer had to admit, Prowl really did know what he was doing when he grouped them together.

Not that he'd ever actually say that out loud. But still.

* * *

Jason: The only thing I remember about Transformers Victory was the British accents. I don't know remember anything else even though I know I did watch it whenever I could as a kid.

Orrunan: They're fun when they're awesome, but they're almost even more fun when they're freaking out XD

Flamingmarsh: I imagined they were like giant, slimy slugs. I would've freaked out, too.

Sunstreaker: Haha, well I'm glad you've come up with a system for reading these!

Dolose: Yeah, I don't really get weirded out by weird bugs or something, but get a lot of them- especially chasing after me? I'm outta there.

Khareesa: It's like having an eel on your arm. But on the inside. Yikes.

Dragowolf: The image of Whirl and Twist clinging to Side like that was one of the main reasons why I wanted to do that chapter!

Piole: I tend to prefer using the lesser developed characters because it's just easier for me to mess with them without totally killing the characters, honestly. If I can't contextualize a well-developed or known character (such as Mirage) then I try to keep them on the backburner. But I always did like Catilla and Carnivac, so it was fun to use Catilla in something. I haven't read Wheelie's Spotlight yet, but I should be getting to it soon!

Wait... last night? Did you read EVERYTHING in one night? Good God, that's determination!


	131. Special: Quirky Wreckers

What's Wrong with a Little Destruction?  
The Wreckers

The continuing awesomeness of IDW's top strikeforce!

Notes: I figure, since I plan on ending this at chapter 150, I might as well toss in something about some of the oddities these guys have developed in my head that I couldn't figure out how to showcase any other way. Perhaps this will inspire other people to try their hands at Wreckers? Winkwink nudgenudge?

* * *

Special: Quirky Wreckers

_"Many a man's reputation would not know his character if they met on the street."  
-Elbert Hubbard_

Everyone had little quirks, that was a given. Sometimes those quirks were obvious, sometimes they were far more subtle. Other times one had to be aware of those quirks in order to work someone. The Wreckers were no exception and while some of their quirks weren't exactly imperative to know about, a number of them tended to get odd looks.

For example, Springer had a tendency of putting things in his mouth. Normally whenever someone pointed it out, he'd just shrug and rationalize it as, "I don't have enough hands". Except anyone that's been around him long enough could tell that that was hardly the case. Sure, when he was welding or splicing or whatever he'd stick a tool between his lips and let his hands move over something. Or if he had a rifle in one hand and a grenade in the other he'd pull the pin out with his dental plating, but it didn't stop there.

Sometimes he'd forget he had a tool in his mouth and went about the rest of his day absently chewing on it and all of his datapads (and some that weren't his but came across his desk anyway) had bite marks on the corners. He always got strange looks from other 'bots whenever he'd go about his business with an empty energon container clenched between his dental plates but everyone would just shrug and say, "That's Springer".

Whirl was slightly less obvious but much more random, but that was due to the fact that he had a plethora of odd factoids waiting to break out at any given and vaguely topical moment. For all his apathy, Whirl loved knowing things. If a subject caught his interest, he found out all he could and hung on to that information until he got bored or needed to clear his memory cache out. This often led to long discussions with Springer or Roadbuster for getting rid of information he didn't like but pertained to his duty (such as explosive ordnance or repairing security protocols or proper procedures of various kinds of paperwork). Of course, Whirl also tended to forget the random trivia he picked up, while simple and obvious to him, wasn't exactly basic knowledge to anyone else and whenever he said something that made others boggle, he often asked, "You didn't know that?"

There were plenty of times Whirl's random knowledge actually saved lives. Once he recalled how small, hollow and buoyant balls could be used to surface sunken vessels (Broadside was picking those things out of his armor for a week, but at least he was alive to do so). Another time he lured a trine of Seekers into crashing because one part of the planet had some strange gravitational anomaly. When he was on Earth, Whirl was pleasantly surprised at the abundance of trivia shows they broadcasted on the television- hell, Whirl had actually considered taking some time off to just trawl Junkion for a few days. The helo was always the especially weird (or crazy) one of the Wreckers, but it made for some good entertainment.

If anyone needed someone to provide good entertainment, Xantium was probably the best stop for it. Most 'bots tended to take sentient ships for granted and sentient ships didn't really remind others that they were beings of free will and intelligence. Xantium was much the same way- content with her place in the scheme of things, quietly and obediently doing her duty shipping things around. Over time, though, mostly due to certain crewmates she had at various points, Xantium developed a sense of humor. If anyone asked her (and if she had the ability to reply), she'd say that she had to. If she didn't have a sense of humor, the massive boredom of going from one point in space to another would've locked up her database.

Logically what Xantium did as a cargo ship wasn't all that much different from what most other sentient ships did, yet none of them seemed to have the panache for jokes that she had. Really, though, it all stemmed to the company she kept. After so many centuries transporting a group of mechs that whispered pranks against Xantium's walls, asking for her help in pulling a trick on someone, it was only natural that the act grew on her. She was not only willing to help out any of her mechs, she didn't get all that upset if her interior suffered from it (because she knew they'd always clean it up afterwards). Xantium didn't need one of the Wreckers to have her own fun, though. Often times she'd focus her cameras where they shouldn't be, making video captures of things the mechs would have preferred she not or else… well, let's just say that time at the Orbital Hub when her washracks had been drained of cleaning fluids? That wasn't Jazz.

She liked a bit of thrill- hell, _all_ the Wreckers liked a thrill. That was what their job was all about. They were always looking for a good time, the how didn't matter so long as they were enjoying themselves and, as such, they all had a reputation for getting around. None so much, however, as Topspin. Though Sandstorm was the (in)famous one when it came to messing around, Topspin was by far the most insatiable. It was just so easy to get him going, anything remotely exciting or that got his pumps speeding up and he'd be ready to snug most anyone (Topspin was, in fact, the only one not allowed to criticize Sandstorm's standards as he was even less selective). After battles, if he didn't exhaust himself doing repairs, he'd prowl around for anyone willing for a quickie or three. The only reason no one ever minded when it was Topspin was because he didn't have the patience to seduce an unwilling partner. If he was turned down, he'd move on to the next prospect, no lies told, no feelings hurt.

Being the perpetual thrill junkie he was, Topspin was always willing to try anything thrice (just in case inexperience or flukes messed up the first two times). Anyone, anywhere and anything. Topspin had such a collection of toys (and things not originally intended to be toys, but he found a way regardless) in his quarters that Smokescreen once estimated the approximate value could have gotten him a snazzy little flat in Iacon's lower quarter. The thought tickled the medic, but he had no intention of getting rid of them. Not when they continued to amuse him. The other Wreckers were glad for the distraction his toys gave anyway. If Topspin didn't have them, his teammates were certain he'd be exhausting the half of them every day unless he had something else to occupy his time.

That was just the way he was. No one could change that anymore than they could Broadside's fear of falling. Not to say he didn't like flying (though not nearly as much as the other aerial modes in the team) and he wasn't particularly afraid of heights. In all honesty, Broadside thought navigating through turbulent air currents was far easier than doing so in rough seas. He was just afraid of the long drop and sudden _stop_ if he took a dive. During battles and missions Broadside's forward processors were engaged enough for the fear not to manifest itself, but he rarely flew outside of necessity. On patrols he always stuck to minimum altitude- the higher he was, the harder it was for him to ignore his fear.

It didn't help that Broadside's aerial alt mode was that of a space freighter. When he was learning to fly, after he'd been upgraded and grouped with other space freighters back when he worked cargo, the other fliers resented him. It wasn't so much of hazing or outright bullying, they just gave him flying 'tips' that ended up making him stall out of the sky. The one time Broadside had broken through the atmosphere, his return trip had rattled him so much- the heat and vibrations and flashing memories of falling –he nearly crashed in to the ground at hypersonic speeds. Get Broadside inside of a ship to pilot in any condition or altitude and his skills were second only to Whirl's but out on his own was a different story.

Twin Twist had a somewhat similar fear. He was built to be underground, to have earth and other bodies surrounding him. Over time he'd gotten over his discomfort of prolong exposure to open air and had became as capable of hanging out of an air skiff as any of the others. Twin Twist, however, did not do zero-g. Ever. Absolutely, not at all, he'd-rather-cut-his-own-fuel-line, did _not_ do zero-g. He could do unsecured climbing. He could do freefalling. But the one time Xantium's gravitational generator got knocked off-line, he freaked out on a ballistic scale.

Now, not every 'bot was built for deep space capabilities but so long as they weren't stuck in a vacuum and was in a functional temperature range, they could survive no gravity. But for Twin Twist, once he realized he was floating around uninhibited and was unable to get back on solid ground, he lost it. Nothing any of the others did- no amounting of arms holding him or modifying grav-boots to get him to the deck –helped. Topspin ended up having to sedate the driller until the generator was working again. Afterwards he was irrevocably mortified at his actions, but the other Wreckers just brushed it off. Being in zero-g, after all, meant all the internal fluids, all the weight that gravity forced downward, was floating aimlessly inside. It really was a frightening sensation that not everyone could get over.

Very similar, in fact, to perpetual shyness, something that afflicted Roadbuster almost to the level of anxiety. The battlefield was his element, but when he was away from all the fighting and planning and, really, business, he didn't know how to act around others. All his boldness and fearlessness would fly from him and he'd find himself stuttering for something to say in a relaxed, social setting. He preferred to let 'bots like Springer and Topspin and Sandstorm rattle on at others while he stayed in the background observing. Even with those he'd known for a long time- Jazz, Hound, Inferno –Roadbuster's conversations were always short and stunted on his end. Springer had attempted to get his friend to open up more, but unless the conversation was based on something he had a strong opinion on, Roadbuster kept quiet.

No one ever really seemed to notice, thankfully. They mostly just assumed that Roadbuster was very professional or just a quiet guy. They didn't realize that he was afraid of proving just how socially inept he was and speaking to someone he didn't know just for the hell of it scared him. Though he was comfortable enough around the other Wreckers to initiate conversation, he still tended to keep in the background while the others snarked at each other. They occasionally teased Roadbuster of his reserved or clipped responses, but never where anyone else would over hear them and they always let him know that, shyness aside, they were happy to have him hanging out with them any way they could get him.

Some fears, though, even the Wreckers wouldn't make fun of. Sandstorm's fear- paranoia, really –was near the top of the taboo list. He could not, under most all circumstances, stand anyone doing something around his head. Sandstorm, being Sandstorm, usually managed to suave his way out of anyone actually getting to his head and therefore kept the quirk a secret. The other Wreckers figured that this fear extended to his battlemask. Unlike Broadside and Roadbuster who were just as comfortable with their masks off as they were on, Sandstorm didn't even retract it to refuel, preferring a siphon like Whirl had to use. The only times he ever willingly took off his battlmask- only the lower portion at that –was when he was too overcharged to care and he only got to that level with and only with the other Wreckers.

Sandstorm had only ever told Roadbuster why he was afraid to even let Topspin near his head, told him when the triplechanger was half-mad with terror and had Decepticons trying to dig information out of his head. The two of them had gotten captured and every time cables were hooked into his cranial unit, Sandstorm panicked until cascading errors force-shut access to his central processor. Roadbuster never hummed a word of it to anyone else, but he asked Springer and Topspin to forgo any procedures that required accessing the orange mech's head unless it was absolutely necessary (this leniency, of course, didn't make it any easier for Topspin to pin Sandstorm down for the _required_ scans during annual check-ups). The other Wreckers didn't question this. To them, it didn't matter why someone was the way they were, just that they are who they are. The speculations they might have had anyway stopped after Topspin had vaguely mentioned he'd come across a number of corrupt memory circuits in Sandstorm's head- possibly indicating that he was a victim of what Topspin called 'head mucking abuse'. It was a part of who Sandstorm was, and the others accepted it. And they made sure no one else gave him a hard time about it, just as they watched out for all of their brothers.

All of the Wreckers were known to be protective of their team members and there was no shortage of 'bots looking to undermine them or start some kind of trouble. But as malicious and bad tempered as the Wreckers could get whenever one of those 'bots overstepped themselves, none of them were as vindictive as Scoop proved to be. It was hard to imagine that a mech as friendly and helpful as Scoop could hold a grudge, but could he ever. It was an accomplishment in its own right to actually get Scoop mad enough, but there had been a few occasions. He just couldn't let things go and it made him an effective warrior. It wasn't just the knowledge of all the civilians and neutrals that the Decepticons had killed that had him standing at the front of the line with his weapons blazing. It was also the fact that, during the riot in Kaon, they dropped a fragging _cruise liner_ on his once-mentor's head, nearly killed the mech that taught Scoop everything he knew about construction. Scoop fought like each Decepticon was responsible for that moment that forever branded the shovel their enemy. He fought like each one was responsible for any of the pain his friends had to endure.

It wasn't just a generalized hate that got him, either. There were, indeed, a handful of 'bots that made it on to Scoop's hit-list and it didn't take long for everyone to realize that torquing Scoop was one of the worst mistakes someone could make. He would be perfectly amiable and upbeat, but the moment one of those 'bots he hated (and he made it no secret) came around he'd get cold and hostile. Even meta-cycles couldn't cool Scoop's temper and it wasn't merely passive-aggressive hostility. He'd be openly critical, prod them into an argument or a fight. At one point in time he'd pull tricks on them- mean, occasionally painful tricks that Springer quickly put a stop to. He was willing to take a lot of heat for his team, but something like that the triplechanger was not going to abide by. So Scoop just stayed with verbalizing his hate with cold, glinting optics. It was just a good thing it was so difficult to get on Scoop's bad side and at least it wasn't permanent, either, just equally as hard for him to forgive. To date, only two 'bots had ever managed to get off of Scoop's list and they couldn't be happier for it.

The bad, the good, the random and the just plain processor-boggling, the Wreckers were no different than any other 'bot. They all had hidden sides no one seemed to understand or see but it made them just as normal as anyone else. They had weaknesses and fears and amusing hobbies. It was all apart of who they were. They accepted each other for their faults and habits and in turn were accepted themselves. They didn't need to talk about the things that scared them, but knew that the others would always be there for them if they ever needed someone to listen and not judge. And that meant more to them than anything.

* * *

Azure: As conceited as Sunstreaker is- and maybe I'm the only one that thinks this -I'm sure he's smart enough to accept teamwork when it's important enough. Such as surviving, or showing up a bunch of braggarts- you know, the important stuff! It just doesn't mean he has to like it. Or not bitch about it the entire time.

Sunstreaker: Your comment got cut off D:

Jason: Alright, I'll take a looksee at it. I've been meaning to but I kinda go through the 'I should look at it/meh, I'll check it out later' modes all the time.

Tomorrow: Thank you! Action is so hard to write!

Bookworm: Luck has such a big factor in so many things, it's crazy.

To everyone else: Thank you for the comments! I hope the length of this chapter makes up for how long it took me to actually get it up!


	132. PreWar: Grapple and Scoop

What's Wrong with a Little Destruction?  
The Wreckers

The continuing awesomeness of IDW's top strikeforce!

Notes: Alright, this is the beginning of a sort of... mini-arc. These next series of drabbles will all have to do with an important part of each Wreckers' lives before they joined the military or the war. They all also feature other characters that I'm sure everyone is familiar with- some of whom I've not yet used in this series. Some of them may surprise you, others may _really_ surprise you.

Also Note: This came out NOTHING like I had planned. But… it's not exactly bad, either. Just, well, different.

* * *

Special: Pre-War: Grapple and Scoop

_"The hardest part of raising a child is teaching them to ride bicycles. A shaky child on a bicycle for the first time needs both support and freedom. The realization that this is what the child will always need can hit hard."  
-Sloan Wilson  
_  
There were three different blueprints, two proposals and reports for six various building sites at Grapple's desk when his door chimed. Annoyed as he was for the interruption, Grapple bid them enter. When he saw who it was, however, the architect's ire turned welcoming and curious.

Scoop was Grapple's favorite foreman (and not merely for the fact that Grapple had commissioned his creation and had explicit instructions regarding Scoop's programming). His open personality gained a lot of respect from the workers as well as his peers, his projects were generally the best constructed buildings of the firm and he understood Grapple's vision without having to be walked through the process. Best of all, he was flexible and resourceful enough not to need Grapple's input on every decision made. So to have him there now, and looking apologetic at that, got Grapple's undivided attention.

He minimized his files. "Scoop, what brings you in?"

The shovel fidgeted for a moment, not looking at his employer. "Um, if you're not busy there was something I wanted to tell you."

"Of course. Have a seat."

Taking the proffered seat, Scoop began, "Do you remember when we were doing the addition to the Senate building last meta-cycle?"

"Yes, what about it?" It normally wasn't the kind of job given to a non-contracted civilian firm but Grapple had out-bid the other companies, showing off his superior constructions. While Grapple had designed the building, it was actually Scoop that was ultimately given charge of the building.

"Well, my team and I worked pretty closely with the Security Force on it," that's right- they had done all the security work to ensure no threat would come to the Senators within, "and I… well…"

"I received a lot of praise from both the Senate and Autobot High Command on your work." Grapple said encouragingly as Scoop trailed off. He certainly hoped something bad hadn't happened that no one had seen fit to tell him about.

Scoop gave a small smile, but he ducked his head, playing with his fingers. They twisted as if he were tying off a rope to a winch. "That thing is, Grapple, I… I'd like to be a contractor for the Autobots."

Grapple recalibrated his audio receptors. "I'm sorry, what?"

He cringed. "A… a contractor."

The crane frowned. "The Autobots have enough construction workers."

"I actually want to be a security contractor."

Grapple did a double-take. "A _what_?" The shovel shrank back in his seat. Grapple was known for his lack of patience when it came to those that couldn't seem to understand his intent or workers that he deemed incompetent. Scoop did not like being on the receiving end of his sharp tone. "A security- you're not built for that!"

"I know, but-"

"Absolutely not!"

Scoop's mouth clicked shut.

"A security contractor!" Grapple snorted at the prospect of it, bringing his work back up. "The very idea! You're a construction worker, Scoop! You're a foreman! You may be one of my best, but in the end _that_ is what you're programmed for! Mechs like us have no place in the Security Force!"

Slowly Scoop sat up straight, cycled air through his vents and said very plainly, "I'm not here to ask for your permission." His boss boggled and Scoop steeled himself to continue. "My contract with you will expire soon. I just wanted you to know that I'm not planning on renewing it."

The architect gapped, speechless at the news. Then, with great difficulty and with more than just annoyance slipping through the seams of his faceplates, Grapple forced out, "Fine."

Scoop just looked at him, waiting for the hammer to drop.

"What?" He snapped, trying not to sound as hurt as he was and failing.

Scoop felt equally guilty. "Is that all?"

"What else do you want? My blessing?"

"Well- no. I mean, I kinda didn't think you'd be happy. I just want to know that you accept it."

"Of course I accept it! What did you expect I'd do? Force you to keep working for me?" As the younger mech's shoulders fell, Grapple scrubbed a hand over his faceplates. "Look, Scoop. I won't be happy and I can't even say I wish you luck because… because you're the best foreman I've had." Then, petulantly, Grapple said probably the most unfair, yet completely truthful thing he ever uttered: "I was planning on passing my firm to you."

That got him an open wince and Scoop couldn't even look at him. Grapple rubbed at his face again.

"Just go."

Scoop jerked his head up. "But-"

"Go."

He didn't watch as Scoop left his office and Grapple continued to watch nothing for nearly a cycle. Then he shut down his station and called up Hoist, needing someone to rant at as he got thoroughly plastered.

* * *

Short responses today as I have to get up insanely early tomorrow to get to school. Ick.

Jason: That... that was really special. No wonder I don't remember much about Victory, my brain blocked it out... btw- I'll bet you absolutely know where Whirl got that underwater salvage idea from!

Sunstreaker, Dragon: A couple of these are actually vaguely based off my own oddities or quirks. Like Side's- you can get me on any loopy, whirly, upside-down ride, but the only rides I absolutely refuse to go on are the ones that drop straight down. Something about it just creeps me out. And the putting-things-in-your-mouth quirk? That's me. I'm always gnawing on a pen or soda can or my finger or whatever.

Dreamchylde: Even though Collide uses the same chapters that I've put in here, they're not in the same 'verse. Asides from that, Sandstorm would actually be willing to do more things for Fireflight than for the other Wreckers- not because he's more important but because they're too close to him. Sandstorm is more self-conscious about what they think of him and while he needs their support and friendship, it actually keeps him closed off at the same time. To him, losing his team because of things he's done in the past would probably be worse than losing Flight over the same thing.

Orrunan: Xantium drained her own washracks, just because she knew it would tick off the Wreckers and that she wouldn't get blamed for it. Just because she's a ship doesn't mean she can't pull her own pranks XD

Azure: I'm sorry we kept having a bad connection tonight! Hopefully next time we see each other it'll be a bit more stable DX


	133. PreWar: Octane and Sandstorm

What's Wrong with a Little Destruction?  
The Wreckers

The continuing awesomeness of IDW's top strikeforce!

Notes: So I simultaneously remembered and completely forgot all about Octane and Sandstorm's friendship in Starscream's Ghost and I recently rewatched it in order to get familiar with it again. Technically the war is already going on at this point, but it takes place before Sandstorm actually joins a side.

Also Note: Long ass quote is loooooong. Tried clipping it down best I could but… damn. Just so utterly perfect.

* * *

Special: Pre-War: Octane and Sandstorm

_"Have you even been in love? Horrible, isn't it? It makes you so vulnerable. It opens your chest and it opens your heart and it means someone can get inside you and mess you up. You build up all these defenses. You build up this whole armor, for years, so nothing can hurt you, then one stupid person, no different from any other stupid person, wanders into your stupid life. You give them a piece of you... and then your life isn't your own anymore. Love takes hostages... It eats you out and leaves you crying in the darkness, so a simple phrase like 'maybe we should just be friends'… turns into a glass splinter working its way into your heart. It hurts… It's a soul-hurt, a body-hurt, a real gets-inside-you-and-rips-you-apart pain. I hate love."  
-Neil Gaiman, The Sandman_

Octane sat heavily on the canyons beyond Stanix's outskirts, watching the other mech growl and fight against gravity. Idly he had to wonder if those created from the outset to be jets ever had these kinds of problems flying for the first time. He overlooked one of the smaller cliffs and as the orange FAV muscled his way back to the top, he was barely recognizable. The only two things Octane couldn't help but think as Sandstorm transformed into jet mode and readied for another attempt was that Hook was going to be torqued at how damaged the Decepticons' newest triplechanger was (again) and that Octane kind of missed the openness of Sandstorm's original ground mode.

Over their tightlink Octane heard Sandstorm go over the checklist before gunning his engine. He'd gotten the hang of takeoffs some time back, but staying in the air, fighting air currents and not running into anything was still giving him trouble.

"Hey, Sandstorm," he called out, "how 'bout calling it quits for the day, huh? Doesn't look like you'll be able to take much more damage."

"I almost got it." That normally smooth, unflappable voice was strained and frustrated. "That crosswind caught me by surprise is all."

The larger jet thrummed partly in agitation, mostly in worry. It took him a damn long time to convince Megatron that not only did he need someone of Sandstorm's skills, but that he was worth the expense in upgrading to triplechanger status (it took even longer to convince Sandstorm joining the Decepticons for the upgrade was worth it). He really didn't want to explain to anyone that after all that, Sandstorm went and killed himself trying to learn how to fly.

"The canyon'll be here tomorrow. C'mon, it took me nearly two mega-cycles to be any good at flying!"

"I'll do it in half." Lowly, almost too low for Octane to catch, Sandstorm muttered, "I've got to."

"Got to? What do you-"

The question was drowned out by the high whine of Sandstorm's ramjet engine, hard ground squealing under his tires as he shot over the edge of the canyon. His body caught the updraft and the flaps on his stabilizers twitched in the wind. Octane watched him strain to keep control, pushing higher and higher, trying to compensate every little change. The gray jet kept his sensors on the flux of air currents and a close scan on Sandstorm. When he hit the jetstream, Sandstorm faltered and dipped to one side. Octane gunned his engines and took off, hoping he'd reach the other mech in time.

He didn't have to. Sandstorm righted himself and pushed back into the stream, flaps fighting to keep him aloft in the turbulent wind. Octane pushed in after him, through the crosswind and into a cloudbank. As he exploded out of the more unpredictable wind current, Sandstorm spun ahead of him and _laughed_. Not the indulgent, humored business chuckles he gave to anyone, but a real, genuine _laugh_.

"I'm _flying_!" He crowed, voice filled with awe and joy the likes of which Octane had never heard from him before. "I'm actually _flying_!" Despite the dents and scrapes, this close to Cybertron's sun, Sandstorm fairly glowed against the clouds and sky. He darted through the openness, trailing laughter as he went. "I never imagined I could _feel_ like this!"

Octane paced him easily, coming up as close to Sandstorm as he dared. "I told ya this was worth it. You and me, there's no place we can't go."

Sandstorm fell quiet but Octane could feel the entranced thrum of his body. They flew, side by side, and Octane strained to hear all the little sounds Sandstorm made, soaking in the sensation of air over his body. It made his internals go electric. "How you holdin' up?" He asked, vocalizer sounding rougher, huskier than he intended.

"Land." The command barely hiding an aroused note that made something inside Octane squirm deliciously. "Now."

Octane dipped and Sandstorm followed close behind. They came down a little too fast but Octane didn't care, transforming and hitting the ground hard on his feet. Sandstorm transformed behind him and plowed Octane into the rocks, hands already seeking out sensitive plating even as they skidded to a stop. Octane's engines purred in unrestrained desire, having wanted to get Sandstorm in his hands almost from their first meeting. He wanted those smooth lines and seductive looks, the quick wit and, Primus, that wicked intelligence. After so long, it was finally his.

His fingers scraped over Sandstorm's back, lighting up the sensors already singing high from flight, loved the way the orange mech arched against him and mewled out little pleading noises. It made Octane shudder, pulling him in close to feel the harsh thrum of Octane's internals wanting him so badly. That red optic band pulsed in delirious pleasure, so close to overload they could almost taste the sparks.

Octane opened his mouth, wanting to see Sandstorm's face, watching his hidden expressions exposed with desire but the orange mech pressed his helmet against Octane's chestplate, growling against him so the larger triplechanger could feel the vibrations echoing in his head. Octane gasped, head pressing back against the ground and Sandstorm moved in close and growled again. The gray Decepticon swore and arched until the access port hidden under his neck guard was exposed. Sandstorm's optics flared and he jammed in the jack from his hand. Octane gave off a gurgled cry before everything went black.

* * *

By the time he onlined Sandstorm was no where on his radar, and his compartments were cleaned out of credits and rifle. His fuel tank had been siphoned with just enough left that he might make the trek back Kaon if he drove slow enough. Octane just barely made it to the city limits before low fuel warnings forced him to stop and contact someone for assistance. The only one he knew that would get the kind of fuel he needed on such short notice was Swindle. He agreed for the price of ten free refuels and knowing how Octane had gotten into such a state- and without the new recruit.

He really should've expected it. Sandstorm had adamantly rebuked all prior attempts to be recruited only to suddenly approached _Octane_ about joining. Then all the disappearing and wanting to practice all the way out in Stanix when Kaon had perfectly useful plains on its outskirts. Octane didn't realize how much it all hurt until he was retelling the story, slowly growing more quiet and sullen as he spoke until his words just drifted off to silence. Swindle didn't care, just laughed at him.

"Sandstorm's just like me and you, pal." He told the triplechanger unrepentantly. "He'll take advantage of anyone at any time. Trust me, he's long gone. Hell, if he's smart he'll take the first shuttle off planet. Megatron will be torqued- Hook, too. Sandstorm was apparently his best triplechanger upgrade yet. He'll be upset losing him." Octane said nothing and Swindle gave a little hrmph. "Forget it. You look like cold slag. We'll just tell Megatron you two got jumped by Autobots, they knocked you out of the sky and capture Sandstorm. End of story."

"Yeah, I guess."

He hadn't told Swindle that he recruit Sandstorm because he had wanted to partner up with the orange mech. He didn't tell Swindle that what he felt for Sandstorm wasn't some superficial attraction, wasn't just about him wanting what he couldn't have. He sure as slag didn't tell Swindle that went he onlined, he found a datapad on him that said, "We're incompatible. If you ever find me again, I may pay you back for these gifts."

Octane obsessed over the message as he limped back to Megatron's base. If he ever saw Sandstorm again, he had no idea what he'd do.

* * *

I'm sure everyone had a better 4th of July than me (unless you or someone you know ended up in a hospital or jail at some point). And if you've not American, I'm sure you still had a better weekend than me. And as my head is still hurting, brief replies tonight.

Dragowolf: I'm sure Grapple got over it eventually. Especially when the war started and he got to see just how good Scoop was at his job.

Silveriss: I'm sure most all parents and their children go through something like that. I know I did with my mom especially. I'm sure part of her resents the way my dad raised me because I'm not like a normal young woman but at the same time I'm also far more independent and self-reliant than most others my age or in my situation. And it's never fun having to explain to her (for the nth time) that I'm happy how I am, with the goals I have while she looks on with a measure of disapproval. But I'm happy and lucky to have her support. Wish everyone could say the same.


	134. PreWar: Astrotrain and Broadside

What's Wrong with a Little Destruction?  
The Wreckers

The continuing awesomeness of IDW's top strikeforce!

Notes: In my personal cannon, the triplechanger program was mainly restricted for infantry use (Springer and Blitzwing), though a small amount was given to civilians as upgrades so long as they spent some time in service and would be useful to the Security Force (Broadside and Astrotrain). Any non-contracted civilian given the triplechanger upgrade got it done illegally (Sandstorm and Octane). And, no, I didn't originally plan on having one Autobot and one Decepticon as an example of each one, it just fell so obviously into place when I figured out the process. The term 'brother' used here, btw, is meant more as an all-encompassing 'someone that it is my business/someone that has a similar experience' and is used to refer to those of similar models or in the same job field.

Also Note: As I was writing this, I began wondering if Cybertronians had labor unions. It didn't seem like it in Megatron Origin. Which of course made me think that the Decepticons are actually the Cybertronians' first attempt at a union. I'm obviously just kidding about that last part.

* * *

Special: Pre-War: Astrotrain and Broadside

_"When you say fiscal responsibility, it seems to me that you really mean rich people keeping their money."  
-Alice Adams  
_  
When he entered the room he nearly tripped over a gray foot as long as his arm. "Sorry," the owner of the foot said before pulling it away from the door. The way his fingers drummed against his thigh, Astrotrain had a pretty fair idea what this one was here for.

"Assessment or upgrade?"

The big mech turned to look at him. "Excuse me?"

"You're one of the mechs come in for the triplechanger upgrade, right?" He took a seat next to the big one. "So are they assessing you as a possible candidate?"

"Yeah. You?"

Astrotrain waved a hand. "Did that already, just here for a prep. It's not that bad, really." He gauged the other mech. "But you're also a lot bigger, they might have a harder time shifting your mass around."

The answering grunt wasn't at all soothed.

"'M Astrotrain, by the way. Space freighter for Alliance Cargo."

An optic ridge went up. "Isn't that a military-contracted shipping company?"

Astrotrain smirked. "Yup. And if you know that, I'm guessing you're in the business."

"Broadside. I'm part of Open Trade Shipping."

That would explain the size- Open Trade did a lot of bulk shipping but… "They're the ones with the huge marine branch, right? Aren't they going under since seafaring vessels are becoming obsolete?"

Broadside grunted through his vents and Astrotrain at least had the good grace to look contrite. "Sorry- I didn't mean it like that."

"You're right, anyway." Broadside slouched in his seat, large legs stretching out. "Not a lot of work for my kind anymore. Very few bodies of water out there that can't be crossed faster and cheaper through the air."

"Which is why you're here, huh? Your company's hoping the Autobots can upgrade you."

Should Broadside get picked up for the program, the government would pay Open Trade a percentage for allowing them the use of him. "And once my contract with the Security Force is up, I get to go back to my old job."

"With no extra pay I'll bet."

"You, too?"

Shaking his head, Astrotrain snorted. "Alliance is hoping to cut out a couple of their associate companies that we use primarily for local ground transport. Once they get me back, I get to do both the space travel _and_ ground travel for the same wage I was on before."

"Big business, huh."

"Streamline everything so they can keep as much profit as possible."

"Kinda makes you wonder why we stick around."

"Yeah."

The two frowned, glaring at nothing and stewing in their own thoughts.

"You know," Broadside said slowly, "there's nothing that says we can only stay contracted for a certain number of years."

The corner of Astrotrain's lips twisted up in a smirk. "This is true. 'Course, then you have to wonder if the Security Force will treat us any better."

"Who knows, maybe you'll find another calling there."

"Ocean Freighter Broadside?" Someone called out from another door. Broadside stood and walk towards the engineer who was already obviously calculating his girth. "Come down this way, please."

"Hey, bro!" Astrotrain called out to his back. "Good luck!"

Broadside gave a sideways grin and raised his hand. "You, too!"

* * *

flamingmarsh: Sounds somewhat similar to mine. Except switch 'rain' with 'fog' and 'cops' with 'lack of cops'. Or 'beer cans', your choice.

Tiamat: Yeah, Sandy was... not big on consideration of others back then.

Naria: Oh, I don't doubt there'd be a LOT of disgruntled exes Fireflight had to deal with. (baps Sandstorm)

Dragowolf: I've been delving more into Sandstorm's passed than other for Collide and it's... very dark and twisted. He keeps telling me he doesn't think it's that bad given hundreds of others had to go through the same thing. I don't know if he honestly thinks that or if he's just saying it in an attempt to keep me from prying.

Azure: Haha, I'm sure Hook was right pissed when he found out, yes XD But I also feel really bad for Octane, too. I should learn to stop being terrible to characters.


	135. PreWar: Skywarp and Xantium

What's Wrong with a Little Destruction?  
The Wreckers

The continuing awesomeness of IDW's top strikeforce!

Notes: In my personal canon, Skywarp was originally created as a sort of aerial escort or guard for a private company. Much like a security guard, which would give him battle experience without the level of formal training of either the military or police. That would give him the potential battle experience (since I see him as a guard for cargo vessels and you know there's totally space pirates running around) and still given lots of leeway 'professionals' wouldn't normally have. I'd imagine that he eventually quit the gig and went freelance where he partnered up with Thundercracker, later met Starscream and was eventually recruited by Soundwave.

* * *

Special: Pre-War: Skywarp and Xantium

_"A friend is one to whom you can pour out the contents of your heart, chaff and grain alike. Knowing that the gentlest of hands will take and sift it, keep what is worth keeping and with a breath of kindness, blow the rest away."  
-Unknown_

Skywarp did not stomp. It went against a flier's programming to stomp- they left that to groundpounders that were forced to sit heavy in the dirt. Fliers were light on their peds, when they moved they practically glided, as if the ground wasn't good enough to support them. He didn't stomp, but he didn't have to to get the point across that he was absolutely fragged the hell off.

He paced angrily around Xantium's secondary hangar, cursing to himself and occasionally shouting unflattering words about his boss. Xantium's lights dimmed sympathetically and when he kicked at a container hard enough for the metal plating to buckle, she slid open a compartment and let an effigy of Roundout dangle from the winch in her ceiling. It wouldn't be as satisfying as putting his fist in his actual boss's faceplates, but Skywarp would just have to be satisfied with it for now.

The chassis on the mismatched punching doll was nothing but spare scrap that Skywarp had welded together (he thought it was damned fitting) and looked about three tantrums from being utterly slagged. He wailed on it, hissing angrily to himself.

"Useless glitch!" A particularly hard knock dislodged the Roundout dummy's last sensory horn. "What the frag do you know!? A senseless, half-clocked, second-hand smelter would be smarter than you!"

If Xantium could she'd probably sigh, all-too familiar with Skywarp's fits of anger and she didn't at all think they were unjustified. Roundout didn't know what to do with fliers and he had never worked with a sentient ship before but-

"'I know what I'm doing, _jet_'," Skywarp sneered in mockery as he stalked around the limp doll, "'I've run plenty of convoys in my time'! This isn't a slagging road trip, you backwards-processing dirt-sucker!" Even Skywarp's creative insults weren't enough to articulate the intense _hate_ he had for his new boss. "I know my fragging job!" That was punctuated with another punch. The doll swung twice before the support finally snapped and it collapsed in a heap. Skywarp kicked it across the hangar and not-stomped to some nearby crates to sprawl again them.

Xantium opened up her vents to let great rushes of air soothe their way over his irate wings. She rumbled softly at Skywarp until he leaned against her with a sigh.

"'M sorry, Ti." He muttered, running a hand against her wall. "Sorry Roundout's such a moron. If he let my team go out, you wouldn't have gotten hurt."

She was unable to tell him that she didn't blame the fliers being denied doing the job they were supposed to do. It wasn't their fault Roundout couldn't seem to understand that Xantium had too many functions to focus on that the added strain of evasive maneuvers and retaliatory fire with what meager weapons the cargo ship was equipped with caused a massive drop in her efficiency levels. No, it wasn't a large raiding party and were she created for battle there wouldn't have been a reason to scramble her aerial guards. But Xantium was a cargo ship. She wasn't build to repel attacks unassisted.

It seemed the only one of Xantium's crew that didn't understand that was Roundout. Even so the only one that actually didn't take Xantium's sentience for granted, the only one that really made it a point to look after her and talk to her was Skywarp. She supposed it was because she helped him get away with rule bending and pranks. Not that she could help it. The black jet amused her, a distraction she desperately needed in comparison to everyone else's second-hand courtesy.

"I can't take it anymore, Ti." Skywarp said wearily. "I can't take him and this whole slagging company any longer. They treat me like I'm an idiot. Like just because they commissioned my creation, they're better than me. If I stay here- Primus, I'm gonna kill someone."

The vibrations thrumming through Xantium's floor kicked up slightly like a question. Skywarp patted her deck. "I can do freelance work. Be a merc. It'll be rough being a solo flier but everyone else here is happy being led around by the nosecone by a bunch of disrespecting idiots. Not me. There's no way I'll settle for that." He got up, pacing, warming up to his own idea as it chased away his anger and frustrations. "I'll earn my respect. Everyone will know my name, they'll all know me for my skills in the air. I'll get me a partner as good as me and who's got a sense for business," because Primus knew Skywarp didn't, "and together we'll be unsurpassed in the skies! There won't be a body that won't know my name- everyone will know 'bout all the things I've done!"

Then, suddenly and very seriously, Skywarp placed both hands on Xantium's wall and she could feel the tension in his hands. "I'll save up the credits to buy you, too. I'll treat you right- you know I will. A ship like you needs someone who understands and actually cares. I won't let you get hurt ever again when I get you. You'd like that, right? You, me and our partner. There'd be no one giving us grief again. How's that sound?"

It was impossible and Xantium knew it. But Skywarp had that knack of making things happen when logic and probability said it couldn't. That's why she knew he would be as great as he said he'd be. Even though Xantium knew his dream wouldn't possibly happen, she hummed under his hand anyway. Because she counted on it to be true. She wanted the best for him and knew he couldn't find it guarding her.

"You'll see, Ti." He said with a grin, ghosting his fingers over the smooth metal. "Everyone will know what I can do."

* * *

I should be working on my midterm, not updating or trawling for something to read. I don't want to work on my midterm. I'm so tired of painting the same damn picture. I also don't want to go in to work, but that's something (slightly) different.

Thank you everyone for the reviews, hope you continue to enjoy!


	136. PreWar: Wheeljack and Topspin

What's Wrong with a Little Destruction?  
The Wreckers

The continuing awesomeness of IDW's top strikeforce!

Notes: So, in Humans II I mentioned that before the war a couple of the Autobots we all know used to be femmes before they switched to the more durable mech bodies. A number of reviewers were amused/intrigued by this so I figured- why not go with it? Takes place some time before the war starts so Topspin is still in medical school.

Also Note: No, I don't actually know what he was doing there. According to him, it was a long story.

* * *

Special: Pre-War: Wheeljack and Topspin

_"A doctor, like anyone else who has to deal with human beings, each of them unique, cannot be a scientist… This means that in order to be a good doctor a man must also have a good character, that is to say, whatever weaknesses and foibles he may have, he must love his fellow human beings in the concrete and desire their good before his own."  
-W.H. Auden  
_  
Two things struck Topspin as odd as he raced down the halls. The first was why no one else seemed at all bothered by the explosion. The second was- is that smoke _red_?

It was, indeed, a vibrant red and the door it spilled out of was only about a quarter open, the metal either forced off its tracks or the explosion knocked out the mechanism entirely. Small, marred hands were trying to push them open by the time he reached them and a wheezing voice said, "Oh, that wasn't supposed to happen…"

"Hang on," Topspin said, bracing his shoulder against one door and his foot against the other and _pushed_. The metal stuttered and parted, squealing terribly until they got stuck again but the gap had widened enough for the hovercraft to pull the small 'bot out. "C'mere-"

"Sorry!" The 'bot- femme, it turned out –blurted, stumbling under Topspin's hands. "I'm sorry, I really didn't think that would blow up! I don't even know how it did, it wasn't- oh." The femme cocked her head to the side. "You're not Ratchet."

"Nope. Sorry to disappoint," she looked more relieved than anything, "let's get you over here and fixed up."

The white and green (at least, what appeared to be white and green under the burns and red streaks on her armor) femme followed Topspin into one of the auxiliary labs. "It's okay," she quipped, "I didn't really get hurt this time. It was more smoke than anything else."

Topspin paused for a moment, wondering if he should ask what 'this time' meant, but just shook his head. "Humor me. Lemme take a look at you."

She shrugged, but sat on a lab table as Topspin knelt, scanning her over. "So what's your name?" He asked.

"Wheeljack. You?"

"Topspin." He took her arm and paused for a moment before unhooking a couple of plates to get at her underframe. "Fan of the retro, I take it?"

Wheeljack tilted her head in confusion. "Oh! You mean my vocal indicators?"

"Yeah."

"I like 'em."

"A little big for you though, aren't they?" He asked pointedly, even as he reconnected some wires in her arm and welded delicate struts back together.

"Okay, I also inherited them from one of my mentors."

"They look cute on you, all oversized like that."

Wheeljack's optics crinkled in obvious amusement, vocal indicators flashing. "Do you normally flirt with your patients?"

Topspin's grin didn't much help his attempt at looking affronted. "This is just my considerate bedside manner! That I only give to cute patients."

She laughed, obediently holding out her other arm as Topspin finished with the first. "How long have you been stationed here? I don't recall hearing about getting any new medics." It was strange that his colors were white and pale green instead of the standard white and red.

"Actually," Topspin paused as he moved from Wheeljack's arm to her leg, an oddity in the pistons of her knee catching his attention. He held a laser scalpel in his mouth as he tested them, finally finding the problem with two small, hairline fractures and a disconnected secondary sensor grid. "I'm not a medic yet. I'm still a student."

He didn't need to look up to recognize the change in the engineer's attitude. "You shouldn't be here."

"Trust me, I know."

"You shouldn't even be fixing me. You could get into a lot of trouble."

"Know that, too."

"I'm serious." She said, but didn't pull away from Topspin's hands. "If Ratchet found out, he'd go ballistic."

"Who's Ratchet?"

"He's the medical director for the facility." Wheeljack leaned down until she caught Topspin's optic. "What are you doing here, anyway?"

He froze, then chuckled nervously. "Yeah, about that…" but didn't say anything else, just busied himself on rewelding the broken circuits on the sensor grid.

"What the hell are you doing here?"

If Topspin's hands weren't any steadier, he would've scorched a line clear up Wheeljack's leg. "G'ah!"

"R-Ratchet! Um," she looked frantically between the med student and whoever was looming behind him, "sorry- I know he shouldn't be here but, uh, I called him up because, um, well- y-you know how it is sometimes and he's pretty handy so-"

"Jack, shut up. You're a terrible liar. And you," a heavy hand clamped down on Topspin's stabilizer, "stand up and look at me."

Frag. Now he was in for it. He did as he was told, stepping back and waiting to get reamed by the mech before him. Topspin inwardly winced at the glare leveled at him. If this was Ratchet, no wonder Wheeljack was worried.

"Students," he growled, "aren't allowed here. What class are you in?"

"4-26, sir."

Ratchet's optics narrowed. 4-26 was a relatively new class, barely a quarter through training and this one was actually attempting to _fix_ someone? "What are you doing here?"

Surprisingly, Topspin's jaw squared and he pulled back tall. "I came to help Wheeljack. No one else seemed to care."

"I'm not talking about that," Ratchet snapped, "why were you-"

"That doesn't matter!" Wheeljack jumped as Topspin actually _snapped back_ at the director. "Why didn't anyone else try to help her? An entire facility of medics and engineers and a _student_ is the only one that cared enough to see if anyone needed help? _That's_ how you run things here?"

Wheeljack hid her face behind her hands. "Oh no." She peered out between her fingers.

The corners of Ratchet's lips pulled down fiercely and his faceplates twitched slightly. Student or not, the mech was right. Even if Wheeljack was prone to blowing things up, someone should still have checked up on her. Ratchet was going to have a long talk with his staff after this. "That doesn't change the fact that not only are you not authorized to be here, you're also not authorized to perform medical acts on the personnel."

Topspin bristled, sharp words ready to jump out of his vocalizer-

"Your concern is appreciated, but the fact is you're not properly trained yet." Ratchet interrupted. "I'll deal with Wheeljack from here. Get back to your class before I call up your instructor and stay in your designated area _only_. I won't be as forgiving a second time."

The young mech hesitated. A hand rested on the end of his stabilizer, thumbing the corrugated surface. Topspin turned to see Wheeljack smile at him through her facemask, vocal indicators lit up warmly. "It's okay. Thanks for caring, Topspin."

"…yeah." He caught her hand, giving it a little squeeze. "Take care of yourself." He excused himself, ducking around the still rumbling Ratchet and slipped through the door.

Wheeljack looked up at the director and couldn't help the laughter in her vocalizer. "C'mon, Ratch! He's a good mech!"

"Good or not," he grumbled, taking her arm and scanning it, "he's not qualified to-" Ratchet bit down on his own words, rescanning the arm, then the engineer's other arm, then stepped back to scan all of her.

"What? What is it? It wasn't a bad explosion- mostly just smoke-"

With a swift cut of his hand he indicated for Wheeljack to stay quiet as he knelt to look at the work on her thigh that Topspin didn't have the chance to cover up. It wasn't as clean a work as a veteran medic would have done, but, according to Ratchet's scanners, a rather decent fix had been done to a couple of blown components to Wheeljack's knee. Components Ratchet recalled that she had gone in to have looked at some time ago, which another medic had claimed were fixed but left Wheeljack still occasionally limping afterwards and Ratchet just never had time to actually look at himself.

"…Huh."

"Ratchet?"

He shook his head. "Nothing. Get a down to medbay and have them get the grit out of your arms, then gather a crew and start cleaning up your mess. You're fine." He'd have to keep an optic on this Topspin...

* * *

My, so much Skywarp love! I have a feeling I really shouldn't be surprised by it, but I was a bit XD

Bai Lang, Cmdrtekk, Dragowolf: It really does make you wonder, doesn't it, how old friends that ended up on opposites sides of the war have to deal with each other. Do they refuse to fight, do they fight, do they try to protect each other? I'd imagine in a situation like in Seekers and Wreckers, Xantium would be caught between wanting to help Skywarp out and keeping him imprisoned. If Skywarp truly cared, I think he wouldn't attempt to sway her to his cause. Enemy or not, they were still close and her happiness meant as much to him as his did to her. He probably wouldn't cause her any kind of trouble that would make her new crew- especially if he sees they also care for her -to distrust her. But that's just my take.

Flamingmarsh: Thanks! It went over really well so I'm happy! Until I remember that I already have to plan for one final and another painting already.

Jason: You know, I didn't really think about that before, but that's exactly what it is! Good eyes!

Robin, PyroP, Rachael: That's always what tends to get me with a lot of portrayals of Skywarp. Just because he's not as intelligent as Starscream or have as much common sense as Thundercracker, he's made out to be stupid. But really, do you think Starscream, perfectionist elitist that he is, would let someone that stupid fly with him for any amount of time? Just because he's not as smart as his wingmates doesn't make him clever in another way, or smart at all. Another thing that I really like about his character- especially next to Screamer's often self-serving ambition and TC's waffling -is that he's so immensely loyal. It's an aspect that tends to get lost in favor of his tendency to prank.

Tiamat: Part of it, I think, is his switch in loyalties. His loyalty was to Xantium who he would've protected beyond all else, then, after being recruited, his loyalty went to Megatron who needed him to blow stuff up which he did with great gusto. I'd imagine he probably also had a much rougher time trying to make it as a solo flier than he initially expected. Friendless, jobless and with little to guide him but his goals and little idea of how to get there, he probably learned a lot of lessons the hard way.

Tomorrow: Thanks! When the idea struck, I thought it was a far too perfect background for Warp to NOT use!

Well, lots of tl;dr comments, but thank you everyone for reading and doubly so for those that take the time out to review!


	137. PreWar: Frenzy and Twin Twist

What's Wrong with a Little Destruction?  
The Wreckers

The continuing awesomeness of IDW's top strikeforce!

Notes: Takes place after initial riots in Megatron Origin and everyone finally able to comprehend that- 'ho shit, these guys gonna kill us' and the subsequent paranoia that inevitably follows. I'm also following the comic convention of 'FIBRIR'. The two were created and worked as partners in the mining outpost C-12. Rumble worked as a driver, creating small branches in the tunnels with his piledrivers. Frenzy, as a detector, would go in and use his radar to detect any energon-rich veins (he would also be able to detect any other useful minerals and ores) before the other miners started digging in earnest. Since drivers and detectors were meant to work in tandem, it's rare for them to be separated. Again, the use of 'brother' is meant for those of similar model or job field.

Also Note: I apologize for the delay. School is really kicking my ass and it's not even finals time yet...

* * *

Special: Pre-War: Frenzy and Twin Twist

_"The ingratitude of the world can never deprive us of the conscious happiness of having acted with humanity ourselves."  
-Oliver Goldsmith_

There was nothing down there but Empties. 'Bots with their circuits shot and scrambled and rotting- their cranial units damaged beyond all repair but their bodies still online. There was nothing for any bots with sense and means. It was a place only those with no hope went to waste away. The fact that Megatron had been told of a miner being seen down in the area had Frenzy and Rumble volunteering to scour the sector even Decepticons steered clear of. No brother of theirs would be rotting with the burnt out and useless.

The two had split up. As long as they've been out of the mines, being outside in the open for prolonged periods of time still tended to unnerve them. Even more so being separated from each other. But they wanted to find this miner before he was irretrievable and if that meant splitting up to cover more area faster, then so be it. At least the Empties were too far gone to be any kind of threat, even at their size.

If I were alone, Frenzy mused, and in a strange city, what would be the place closest to home…?

He found his answer at the bottom of a derelict building that was possibly once a spire. Frenzy had nearly passed over it but his sensors told him the extreme slant of it wasn't in danger of coming down without something taking out part of the side. He paused, studying the structure of it curiously. Rumble was better at gauging a structure's integrity than Frenzy, but he could tell when someone had put up a study foundation. The place looked just rundown enough that even Empties would have kept out, fearing collapse.

This was a smart one, Frenzy decided before sliding down to the opening. Approaching cautiously, he let his radar creep inside until he heard the pulses hit a singular object. Definitely him. He called out into the opening, "Hey, bro! You don't mind a guest, do ya?"

The inside went absolutely still.

"I'm one of you, bro! I'm a miner, too! Well- used ta be. I just wanna help you out is all." Still nothing. Frenzy hoped the mech wasn't already burnt out. "I'm comin' in."

"…alright."

Taking that as a hopeful sign that the miner was merely cautious, Frenzy sauntered in as confidently as he did everything else. His optics adjusted to the near blackness, using low visibility settings he hadn't had to turn on since they were crawling around the under belly of Kaon. In a small space, hunched over, ragged and exhausted, was the miner. When he saw the two dirty drills looming over the mech's shoulder components, Frenzy contacted Rumble.

"_I found 'im!_"

"_Yeah? Where is he? What is he?_"

"_We're under some old building- don't worry, I got it covered. Bro- this one's a driller!_"

He could practically hear Rumble's wide grin over their comm link. "_Aw, Big Megs would kill to get a driller working for 'im! You think Hook'll be able to fix 'im up?_" Miners were notorious for being tough and strong and drillers were among the toughest- especially given they tended to be smaller than most other mining vehicles.

"_Dunno, probably. I don't know how bad he is._"

The driller peered tiredly at him. Even in the dim light Frenzy could see his blue optics were muddied and unfocused. "…a detector?" He asked slowly, as if thinking was getting to be too difficult. "Where's your driver? And such a vibrant color…"

Frenzy's sensors told him this one was pretty damn close to collapsing from energon depletion. He took a packet of rations from a compartment and handed them over. "Here, bro. Get some of that strength back." When the driller hesitated, Frenzy took a scrapped up hand and placed the entire packet in there. The hesitation vanished and the driller tipped almost half the rations into his opened mouth. The smaller mech took a seat across the way from him. "Name's Frenzy."

"Twin Twist." Came the mumbled reply. Twin Twist's optics flared as he crunched on the rations, refined energon pulsing through his dry systems. The relief was so great his hands shook.

"My partner Rumble's outside. You can come with us, we got a pretty good gig set up. And we ain't gonna turn out a brother."

Twin Twist regarded him quietly, now munching on the rations one at a time and savoring the rush of energy. He was a mess, dirt and neglect discoloring his faded gray and blue to an almost brown. Even if miners were used to being dirty, Frenzy wondered when the last time he cleaned was. "You're part of Megatron's group, aren't you?" He asked, optics on the purple sigil on Frenzy's chestplate.

"Yeah. The Decepticons are pretty much the only haven we miners got now."

"Obviously because it's not Megatron's fault that we're feared." Twin Twist said flatly.

"I'm gonna guess it's kinda moot, my tryin' to recruit ya to the cause, huh?"

"Pretty much." He held what was left of the rations back to Frenzy. "I don't want to have anything to do with this."

He waved a hand. "Keep it." At Twin Twist's dubious look, he said, "Hey, I think it'd be awesome gettin' someone of your power behind us. But I ain't gonna force ya. You're my brother, so I'm gonna respect your decision, right? I ain't gonna let ya just waste away, either." Frenzy leaned back against the wall, tilting his head at Twin Twist. "You ain't gonna find anyone else willin' to give you a chance just 'cuz yer a miner, ya know. If you ain't turned away, you'll be lynched by the public or arrested by the Autobots. And, yeah, maybe we are to blame for that, but it ain't like they didn't bring it on themselves with the way they were treatin' us. Or did ya really like that kinda life they gave us?"

"No." He admitted. "But I don't agree with what you're doing, either. Attacking 'bots that don't have anything to do with us? Regular civilians just getting on with their lives? How does that help us?"

The small blue mech shook his head. "You wanna discuss philosophies, you can talk to Megs. Me an' Rumble, we're too deep in to get out now."

"I appreciate the kindness, but I can't join you."

"Alright, alright." So you say, Frenzy thought. He stood up, smiling amicably to the other mech. "If you ever change your mind though- just in case –you just ask 'round fer me an' Rumble, right? Hell, even if ya just need a little more energon to keep goin', we got ya covered."

For a moment, Twin Twist's resolve seemed to waver, touched by the concern of one brother to another. "Thank you." He said, before turning away.

When Frenzy stepped outside, Rumble was already there waiting for him. "Well?"

"Give 'im time, bro." Frenzy said, not worried in the least. "He'll figure out there's nothin' for him anywhere else. He'll come to us in his own time."

* * *

I should warn people that I very much want to draw femme!Wheeljack now. If only I didn't have two big projects taking up my time right now!

Jason: Ratchet's gotta be laying the smack down on _someone_!

Robin: I do like me some subtext!

Flamingmarsh: Ah, yes. Because I absolutely need to start yet ANOTHER crack pairing XD

PyroP: It was doubtless not the last time Topspin stood up to Ratchet. Also doubtless most of those Topspin was not in the right and was therefore yelled back down...

Dreamchylde: Yeah, I've heard of the 3H's Wreckers series but I figure if it doesn't have Whirl, Roadbuster, Topspin or Twin Twist in it (as they've been in all other incarnations of the group) then it's not the actual Wreckers.

Tomorrow: You know, of course, Ratchet will deny it forever.

Dragowolf: A great medic and a huge headache for Ratchet...

Tammycat: From what little sketches I've managed to do, I think Wheeljack was a very adorable femme XD


	138. PreWar: Jazz and Whirl

What's Wrong with a Little Destruction?  
The Wreckers

The continuing awesomeness of IDW's top strikeforce!

Notes: So in the vein of things not turning out at all as they were originally intended… This one, I don't even know what the hell happened with this. I had an inkling that Whirl had some personal issues before the war, but this wasn't what I was expecting. But man did he ever open up. Takes place after the meeting in Megatron: Origin 2.

* * *

Special: Pre-War: Jazz and Whirl

_"Freedom is not merely the opportunity to do as one pleases; neither is it merely the opportunity to choose between set alternatives. Freedom is, first of all, the chance to formulate the available choices, to argue over them –and then, the opportunity to choose."  
-C. Wright Mills_

He was still in the conference room by the time Jazz finally tracked him down, sitting on the tabletop of the first row and replaying the gladiatorial footage Prowl had shown earlier over and over again. Jazz knew Whirl was prone to odd behavior, but this was strange even for him.

"Hey," he called out, moving down the steps, "you haven't been answering your comm."

"Didn't feel like it." Whirl muttered, not moving his optic from the giant screen as the footage wound backwards.

"Prowl wants you to coordinate air cover with RB's ground forces."

"Roadbuster knows the air crew's capabilities. He can tell me what he wants."

The black and white frowned at the back of Whirl's helm. It's not that he didn't like the helo; every time Jazz tried to chat with him, his attitude didn't seem consistent. He was never very certain how Whirl would act. For a mech that made his living off gauging others, it was as disorienting as it was a challenge. "There something up?"

For a long moment Whirl stayed quiet, bright splatters of energon from the footage reflected over his armor. "Have you ever realized how futile and unfair our lives are?"

A philosophical discussion was not what Jazz was expecting. "Like how?"

"Starting from the moment individuals are created our entire lives are decided without our consent. Our jobs, our forms, everything about us is programmed in and we're expected to just accept it without considering alternatives. Everything we do from the moment we become aware of ourselves is expected to coincide with our original function." On the screen, Megatron barked out commands to his team. "We don't have a say in what we want to do. We either fulfill our roles or we're cast aside as useless or malfunctioning, clinging to the fringes of society in an attempt to survive. There's not a lot of room for us to evolve, is there?"

The Special Ops mech looked up at the screen briefly. "What brought this on?"

"Just something that's been bothering me for a while. We're all told that a 'bot without a function is nothing but a waste. We pass by Empties and pretend not to see them because they're functionless, they're unable to do even the simplest tasks. We sneer down at those in the slums because they're self-serving, we think they do nothing for the greater good. But that's not true, is it? The businesses that are run down there- legal and otherwise –still affect our economy. Have you ever wondered what it would be like to do something for yourself? For _just_ yourself and not because it benefits anyone else? Probably the closest things to that would be artists and we have so few that can survive on their art alone."

"Yeah, but we're officers. Our responsibilities don't really -"

Whirl turned to Jazz, his gaze intense. "I didn't choose this. I didn't make the decision to be an officer or a helo- that was made for me and I'm forced to go along with it regardless of my own desires. The Autobots wanted an aerial officer and I was created."

The other mech frowned. "But it was your choice to command Kaon's air force."

He laughed derisively. "Do you know how much I _hate_ being the air commander? I hate having to be in charge of everything, taking responsibility for mechs that can't seem to think for themselves and dealing with a command that can't understand the things I tell them. The only reason I fought for this position is because I hate taking orders even more. But there's nothing I can do about it, is there?" Whirl turned back to the screen as Clench was eviscerated. "I was created solely for this job." He said, vocalizer holding a tone Jazz had never heard from the normally blasé helo. "I was never given a chance to do anything else. If I don't stay in the military, what else would I do? Where would I go?"

Jazz looked from him to the screen and back again. He asked, very carefully, not wanting to sound accusatory, "You thinking 'bout joining in these games?"

He was expecting a snort. He was _hoping_ for a flat 'Don't be stupid'. He didn't like the stretch of silence between them. Finally Whirl inclined his head, "I don't know. Maybe."

"Why?"

"Because they have that freedom. They're not built to fight, but they choose to for whatever personal reasons they have. But I can't. I have to be at a certain place at a certain time, running specific exercises." He looked down at his hands, blades flexing. "What would it be like to have that kind of freedom? To cycle out of recharge and decide, 'I'm not going to fight today'?"

There wasn't anything Jazz needed to say or that Whirl wasn't aware of. Megatron's entourage was under surveillance. There would be no way for Whirl to approach them without being seen even if he wanted to meet the fighters. Jazz perched on the edge of the table next to the helo, carefully deciding on his next words. "Have you talked to anyone else about this? Roadbuster?" Whirl wasn't known for being sociable and the combat vehicle seemed to be the only one that engaged his interest for prolonged periods of time.

"No. He wouldn't understand. He enjoys his job for the most part. He's socially awkward, but he genuinely cares. He wouldn't be able to get how I can be as effective as I am and still be dissatisfied with what I do. But you get it, don't you?"

"Me?"

"Yeah. You've had the chance to infiltrate places, pretend to be someone you're not, able to construct an entire life the way _you_ want it to be." He gave Jazz a sideways look. "Were you never bothered having to come back here and being the spotless officer you were created to be?"

Jazz hesitated, processor flashing to the missions he's done, the lives he's lied about. And he understood what Whirl was talking about. It was Jazz's job to do these things, but in doing his job he found other things that he enjoyed doing that had nothing to do with sabotage or intel. He was once a racer, a musician, an intellect, a pilot and after each life was wrapped up and put away, those livelihoods became his pastime. He still raced on his time off, he still made music, he followed art and literature and he volunteered to take missions that allowed him to sit at the helm of a ship. These hobbies he had he never would have found if it weren't for his job. Similarly most wouldn't have the time or inclination to explore the world outside of what they did.

That's how it was for almost everyone in their job field, Jazz realized. It made the Security Force bland, uninspired, it made them static and inflexible. Even with the talent in the ranks that they had, with nothing new to add to the mix, without outside thinking they would never grow. Civilians had options opened to them, they could choose who they worked for but that was still dictated by what they were created to do. The Autobots didn't even have that luxury. They would never change because they didn't have the freedom to choose.

The screen abruptly shut off and Jazz's visor flickered in surprise. Whirl stood with the length of his shoulders sloped a fraction. "Guess it's time to go back through the motions. See you at the briefing."

Jazz waved the white mech off absently. "Yeah. See ya."

* * *

Jason: So do I. It's really something I grew attached to while in the military.

Robin: Hard to believe, I know, but even Frenzy can find himself in a situation where he can't help but be compassionate.

Star Lin: It's not so much that Frenzy was WRONG as it was the Autobots were lucky they had someone like Springer. But that'll be covered more in a later chapter!

Flamingmarsh: It's very tempting. That may be the scariest part.

VAWitch: 'Frenzy Is Blue, Rumble IS Red'. Actually, having done that chapter I can't help but wonder how different things might have been if Twin Twist hadn't ended up joining the Wreckers.

Dragowolf: Actually, Topspin doesn't seem to take getting yelled at very well. He's learned to tune out Ratchet after so long, but usually if someone's yelling at him right up in his face, he just gets angry and starts being snippy. And really, it was a very close call that the Autobots got Twin Twist at all...


	139. PreWar: Sentinel Prime and Roadbuster

What's Wrong with a Little Destruction?  
The Wreckers

The continuing awesomeness of IDW's top strikeforce!

Notes: So a bit ago I was re-reading Roadbuster's bio on Teletraan and at the bottom it mentioned, despite his being at the meeting regarding the underground gladiatorial rings, he was conspicuously absent from the actual raid. So I figured a bit of an explanation was in order- that perhaps, as capable as Roadbuster is, there's some tension between him and Sentinel Prime regarding the highly militaristic way Prime's doing things, expanding their borders (under Senate orders) while resorting to violence at home. While Sentinel acknowledges Roadbuster's accomplishments and could certainly use him in a place like Kaon, the fact that Roadbuster subtly criticizes the way Sentinel works, he's being just as subtly pushed out of the main action. Just a thought.

Also Note: Emirates, from what I've decided, are the ones in charge of Cybertronian territories much like British governors back in their Imperialistic days. However, while Senators are politicians, Emirates are more like big business owners with a stake in the area they're in charge of. While the Senate is the one ultimately in charge of what goes on in Cybertron and their expansion, the Emirate has a say in the government process and the ones that take of things off-world.

* * *

Special: Pre-War: Sentinel Prime and Roadbuster

_"Love and serve the homeland; do not hate or hurt the homeland of others."  
-Sri Sathya Sai Baba_

When someone of Sentinel Prime's height and girth strode through the corridors, everyone scrambled out of his way with as much bearing as possible. They greeted him with a curt 'Sir!' as he passed, getting a nod or flicker of optics in return. Going down the hall to his office, Prime was more than ready to pawn the rest of his duties on to Prowl and go to the range to unwind after a morning of meetings with whining Senators. Just one last thing, he thought, until I can stop dealing with all the bureaucratic slag.

As he stepped into his office, the mech seated patiently before the desk stood at attention. "Have a seat." Prime told him, moving behind the desk to do the same. A datafile was already waiting for the commander which he picked up and skimmed through. "Roadbuster," he greeted simply, "looking to be our new ground commander here, are you?"

"Yessir."

The file was really nothing new to Sentinel Prime- he had already reviewed Roadbuster's record before he okayed the transfer –but looking through it now that he had a presence to match up to the text always helped sort things out for him. "You have quite a list of accomplishments. A number of officers here speak highly of your tactical skills."

"Thank you, sir."

As it was, Sentinel Prime wasn't certain he was very fond of Roadbuster's presence. He didn't lack for officers that acted very professional and reserved around their commander, but Roadbuster seemed far more closed off.

"I never did commend you for the way you dealt with the problem on Lesath-4."

"I received a letter of commendation from you. Thank you, sir."

Sentinel Prime raised an optic ridge at the stoic combat vehicle. He'd have to speak to Prowl about letting him know whenever his second sent out letters under his name. "My personal commendation."

"Thank you, sir."

"I must ask, though, why you've requested to transfer to Kaon. You would be more useful on Lesath-4."

"I'm afraid I disagree, sir. I believe I would be more useful here."

Ah-ha. He was waiting for that. Folding his hands on the desk, Prime asked, "How so?"

"The reason we've been having difficulties, I believe, sir," Roadbuster said with a carefully flat intonation, "is the influx of immigrants that have been steadily gravitating to Lesath-4 over time, not all of whom have done so legally. Our checks have shown that a fair percentage of these immigrants have police records- some for multiple or severe charges. Most of them had come from Kaon." He held Sentinel's gaze steadily. Sentinel Prime felt his internals twisting angrily as something dangerous like disapproval was in the combat vehicle's look. "The Emirate can handle the situation now, but if the number of immigrants continue at the rate it has been, another civil unrest is sure to happen."

"And you believe," Sentinel Prime's cold voice didn't quite ask, "the problem stems in how we are handling the situation here?"

"You're doing what you believe needs to be done," came the ready reply, "I do not doubt that. However, I also think your method is not as effective as you believe." Prime's optics narrowed darkly but Roadbuster continued undeterred. "The actions you commended me on, if you do not recall the report, ended with no injuries to all parties. No incarcerations, no threats. You are well known for you militaristic approach. A strong, authoritative presence is useful in its place, but that doesn't make it appropriate for all cases."

A file scrolled through Sentinel Prime's central cortex and he stifled a grimace. He was taught by Kup. Of course. All the idealistic troublemakers came from Kup. "The reason," he said with measured calm, "they leave Kaon is to make a new start. They would therefore be more willing and susceptible to change. Here the corrupt element is far too rooted for simple rhetoric to make any affect." Prime's large hands, just barely larger than Roadbuster's, steepled together on his desk. "They stay to preserve their way of life. No amount of speaking to them will change that."

"And dialogue with the Senate?"

An open scowl twisted his faceplates. "The Senate is corrupt and selfish to the point they've made themselves obsolete. We cannot depend on them to think in the interest of anyone beyond themselves." Prime stood, tall and imposing. "You will find that things work very differently here. Do not presume the solutions you used on Lesath-4 will work just as well in Kaon."

Roadbuster stood as well. "That is why I am here, sir." He stood at attention until the commander dismissed him.

As the combat vehicle left, Sentinel Prime sneered in contempt. Another one come thinking they could do better. There were no shortages of critics even in his own ranks. "Sentinel Prime to Prowl."

"_Prowl here, sir._"

"I'm going to the range. You're in charge."

"_Understood, sir._"

Bah. He'll see the truth of Kaon soon enough. They all do.

* * *

Well, I must say I'm impressed at the responses from the last chapter. Whirl certainly has a way of being surprising and I'm glad to know I wasn't the only one that was by him.

Robin: Every society went through a period like that- where, if you grew up in a certain caste, you were expected to stay in it. If your parents had a certain job, you were expected to follow suit. Hence last names like Smith, Farmer or the like.

Rachael, Dragowolf: Thank you, your reviews really made me blush. I don't consider myself a great writer because I merely do this for fun and don't take it seriously at all. But being told that I've made people think about things in a different light really makes me proud. If there's only one thing I do with my art, I want it to be encouraging people to reconsider how they look at life and others.

Naria: I admit I was kinda of surprised how very close some of them were, too. I knew most if not all of them are tentatively recruited at one point but really, if it weren't for one little thing, a couple of the Wreckers would've ended up being 'cons.

I hope the rest of these chapters will remain being interesting and entertaining to everyone! I appreciate everyone for their kind comments and reviews!


	140. PreWar: Onslaught and Springer

What's Wrong with a Little Destruction?  
The Wreckers

The continuing awesomeness of IDW's top strikeforce!

Notes: OIC stands for Officer in Charge. I see Springer being transferred around a lot because he can't seem to get a superior office he respects and therefore caused as much grief as he could- anything from pranks to undermining authority to just outright insulting said officer in their faces. So no. He didn't get very high in rank before he quit/was discharged. Onslaught had much the same problem with his superiors though he was too much of a professional to be as petty.

* * *

Special: Pre-War: Onslaught and Springer

_"The only thing necessary for the triumph of evil is for good men to do nothing."  
-Edmund Burke_

He never really realized how long the walk to the brig was until he was the one being put in it. Or how loud the clanging of the door and humming bars were, as if the sounds themselves were cutting through his previously flawless career. The security grunt made no attempts at conversation but at least he tried to look professional and unafraid next to a mech two heads taller and over half-again his mass. Ensuring his charge was secure, the grunt turned smartly on his heel and left the brig. As the door closed and locked behind him, silence reigned for all of one nano-klik before:

"Ons! Fancy meeting you here!"

Onslaught turned his head to give his brigmate in the cell kitty-corner to his a sidelong look. "Springer. Too bad I can't say this is a surprise."

The triplechanger lounged on the berth as if this wasn't an unfamiliar setting for him (as it really wasn't). "Yeah, same old, same old. What're you doing here, Mr. Spotless Record?"

"I'm sure it's not that different from why you are."

Springer's easy grin melted into surprise. "You rigged the OIC's intercom to broadcast base-wide at random intervals, too?"

"Wait- what?"

"Nothing, nothing."

Onslaught leaned forward, flabbergasted. "That was _you_?"

"They have no proof."

Optic band narrowing the combat vehicle asked, "What about last time?"

"Part of that brawl in the rec room half a mega-cycle ago."

"And before that?"

"Hot wired an air skimmer so a couple of ground pounders could taunt the jets."

Onslaught put a hand to his helmet. He knew Springer caused trouble, but not _that_ much. "And before that?" He asked weakly.

"Being belligerent to the OIC."

"That's why I'm here."

Springer's shock was overwhelmed by a giddy smile. "Really? You called Halfstep a whiny, self-important, analogue-processing glitch monger?"

The other mech snorted. "No, but I probably will next time I see him."

"So?" Springer leaned forward, eager to hear the gossip. "What did he possibly do to make _you_ snap like that?"

Onslaught hesitated but, really, if anyone could understand (and appreciate) what happened, it would be Springer. "He was with us on that convoy that made rounds along our outposts and everything was going fine until we hit the western most sector."

"Where we've boxed in those black market runners, right?"

"Yeah." Onslaught's fists tightened. "With all the other small guerilla groups testing our line, we can't pull enough force to cripple their central base."

"And they've dug in enough that we can't force them out without sustaining heavy damages." Springer finished with a nod. He wasn't liking where this was going.

"Halfstep, promoted desk jockey that he is, decided he wanted to make a name for himself by sending a _convoy_ of all things in to attack."

"Oh, Primus…"

"I attempted to explain that not only were we ill-equipped and prepared for such an offense, I told him the kind of resistance we experienced from previous attempts. Our doing that would've been logistical suicide."

"And he went ahead and did it anyway."

"Oh no. Not just that." The red optic band narrowed to a murderous slit and his dental plating ground together beneath his battlemask. "He sent me and a squad to run patrol, _then_ took the rest of the convoy in to attack while I was gone."

Springer couldn't even think of anything to say, just shook his head in disgust.

"We intercepted calls for reinforcements and when we got back… Well, to put it simply I took command, led the convoy out and told Halfstep if he attempted to order my platoon around again I'd rip his spark out through his exhaust port."

His audience boggled. "You said that?" Onslaught nodded. "Really?" He nodded again. Whistling through his vents, Springer gave an ovation. "You, sir, I applaud with the utmost respect and awe."

With a grimace and a wave, Onslaught cut him silent. "It's not like it matters what mechs like you and I do. Just because Halfstep has rank over us, we'll always be wrong in the view of High Command. Nothing we say to him will change this delusion he has of himself and unless we're willing to sacrifice our own mechs, there won't be an investigation of him."

Springer's own blue optics narrowed slightly. "Does that mean you'll just let him do whatever he wants?"

"Absolutely not!"

"Even though you say it's futile?"

Onslaught stayed silent for a long moment before, with his knuckles bracing his chin, more to himself than to Springer, he said, "If I don't look after my troops, who would?"

"Or you can just worry about it until you get transferred out."

The way it was said, so flippantly, so mundane, made the combat vehicle look up. "Are you getting transferred again? Already?"

A shrug was his reply. "What can I say? If I ever get an officer that can convince me they know what they're doing and actually cares for their troops, I might not give them as much grief."

"You have your moral standards set too high, Springer. The only one that would fit the bill is Kup."

"And after hearing the story on why you're here you expect me to believe your moral standards aren't high, either?" He asked with a knowing look.

"Are you saying you'd listen if I were your superior?"

"Listen? Sure. You're competent enough. I would, of course, still cause you grief. You take everything way too seriously."

"I shouldn't expect any less from you."

The hiss of the brig doors opening caught their attention. The security director along with Halfstep and a large purple and yellow mech strode in. They stopped in front of Springer's cell and deactivated the bars.

"Springer," Halfstep said imperiously, "Impactor has come to escort you to your new duty station." He waved the security director forward who pulled out a pair of-

"Cuffs won't be necessary. He's a transfer, not a prisoner."

Halfstep gave the new officer an odd look. "With all due respect, Springer is well known for causing trouble of all kinds."

Impactor sized up the triplechanger. "Are you going to give me a reason to have you restrained?"

Springer sized him right back up. "Not if you don't give me a reason to make your life hell."

A phantom smile quirked Impactor's lips. "I'm sure we'll get along fine."

Before the group could leave, Springer called out, "Hey, Ons! I expect to hear the gory details soon!" He grinned, tossing his head towards Halfstep.

"I don't doubt it'll be soon." The combat vehicle agreed ominously.

At Impactor's curious look, Halfstep bristled slightly. "Just idle threats from disgruntled officers. Nothing to worry about."

"Idle?" Onslaught said with the measured dominance of a predator in wait. "I assure you that was no exaggeration."

"Everyone knows," Springer added with a razor grin, "Onslaught doesn't joke."

* * *

I'm glad I'm far from the only one that picked up the vibe that Sentinel Prime was a very militaristic leader. It has it's place, but that doesn't mean it'll work for every situation.

Robin: The medieval period is a good example of that, as well as ancient Egyptian, English Victorian age as well. All had very rigid social structures.

Azure: I'm sure RB doubts the same tactics he used at his last station would have the same results in Kaon, but after Prime's presence there so long and things not getting any better (and probably WORSE), a different plan is definitely in need. And I love backstory time!

Silveriss: It's expected that Prowl would filter only the most important stuff to Sentinel but there were times in Origin where it seemed like Sentinel was just kicking back and letting poor Prowl deal with everything.

Tecuma: Glad to see you back! You know, I was actually wondering if you were still around a couple days ago! Hope everything is going okay for you!

Akisawana: My doorstep would be nice XD

Tomorrow: Prime didn't strike me much as someone that would be willing to send out letters of recognition often. And you totally know Kup's main emphasis in training is for them to think for themselves. Instill some morality and backbone in those impressionable young kids, don't let hem get walked all over and all.


	141. Special: Scoop and Wreckers

What's Wrong with a Little Destruction?  
The Wreckers

The continuing awesomeness of IDW's top strikeforce!

Notes: So the last set was about some important moment in each of the Wreckers' lives before the war. This set is going to be about their recruitment into the strike force. Ten more chapters until the projected last drabble.

Also Note: Takes place some time after Thunderwing gets taken down, leaving Cybertron mostly a dead rock at this point.

* * *

Special: Scoop and Wreckers

_"The morale of soldiers comes from three things: a feeling that they have an important job to do, a feeling that they are trained to do it well, and a feeling that their good work is appreciated and recognized."  
-Unknown_

The last of the data was keyed in and the holoprojector activated, showing the Wreckers and Trailbreaker the surveillance that Sandstorm had gathered. The detachment commander gave a frustrated growl through his vents. "They're getting ready for a major offensive on our perimeter."

"If they keep building up like they have," Sandstorm told them, "your sensors would pick up the activity in five cycles. Crunching the numbers, they'd only need to build up for three before they have a force to overwhelm us."

"We need to recall those on the watchposts." Springer said, calculations whirling through his tactical analyzer. "We can set up the automated turrets along this ridge," he dragged his finger over the projection. "It won't hold them off for long but it'll put a sting on them. These two posts here and here can be rigged with explosives. Make them strong enough, they'll bring down the mountainside and make it impossible for ground troops to come up on this flank before our reinforcements arrive."

"Is that really necessary?" Trailbreaker asked. He already knew what Springer was going to say, but he still didn't like excessive destruction of anything.

"Cybertron is already dead," came the flat retort. "I doubt anything else we do in a black zone is going to hurt it any."

"What kind of fortifications were you thinking about?" Roadbuster interjected. They needed to focus now, if anything was going to get done, and they didn't have a lot of time to do it in.

"We can rig the turrets with an E-8 sensor and Twist can set up the remote detonators easily enough. We'll have to set up some traps between the watchposts and our defensive line, though. These will probably be the main avenues of attack but we should set sensors here, here, here, maybe here in case they try to cut through-"

"That's not going to work."

Everyone paused. Then turned to see an orange shovel staring at them. "Sorry," Springer's voice went distantly formal, "who are you?"

The mech shifted uncomfortably at the attention, but stood his ground. "I'm Scoop. I'm an Autobot security contractor."

Behind Springer the other Wreckers exchanged glances but the triplechanger regarded Scoop head on. "And what's not going to work?"

"Well the, uh, the E-8 scanners for one. Rad levels are too high for their systems and if you insulate them you'll be degrading their capabilities. If you hook them up to the turrets as is, they'll either fritz and shoot at random nothing or they'll just shut down. Insulate them and they won't be able to detect anything unless it's within half a dozen meters."

A long silence fell and Scoop bowed his head a little, wondering where the hell he got off at criticizing the mech he idolized. Springer took a step forward and Scoop winced at his expressionless mask.

"Alright then, Security Contractor Scoop," the inflection was impeccably flat, Scoop didn't know if he was being taken seriously or being chastised, "what do you recommend?"

Suddenly put on the spot, Scoop looked desperately to Trailbreaker who merely nodded at him. "I-I guess," he cycled a long drag of air through his vents, "the quickest and easiest thing to do would be to pre-program a firing pattern for the turrets. Since there's two to a post it should get some good coverage and the explosives can buy some good time. You could probably rig up the other turrets with frag grenades and pressure sensors- get them to explode when they've been shot up and tear up any 'cons wearing rad armor.

"But if you want to go for maximum casualties," Scoop gingerly stepped between Broadside and Twin Twist to get to the map. He kept a respectful buffer of space around Springer and hoped he didn't say anything stupid, "these two points right here would be perfect locations for scuttle mines."

Twin Twist quirked a brow ridge. "Scuttle mines?"

"They're something Scoop cam up with not long ago." Trailbreaker told them, leaning over to clap a hand on Scoop's shovel. "A chainlink mine that tracks and follows after whatever trips its sensors."

"It requires something moving in close proximity, but once the lead mine picks up the object, it'll follow and attach itself via magnetic clamps, signaling the rest in its chain to follow. Because it's just the one mine with a low powered radar system, it's difficult to detect." All of Scoop's earlier hesitance had vanished now that he was in the groove of what he knew best: security and engineering.

Springer gave him a cool look. "And you developed this?"

"It hasn't really been perfect yet because of the rad interference, but if I got 3/8th insular tubing for them, they'd be even harder to detect and they'd be better protected from the radiation."

A quick glance at Broadside got an, "We got plenty we can scrounge up easy." Springer looked over to Trailbreaker who merely grinned.

"Go for it."

"Alright," Springer clapped his hands together, "Sandstorm, Twin Twist, Broadside, get that insulation tubing, remote setters, frag grenades and chain mines going. Whirl, Topspin, get the skiffs set up so you can carry them to the posts, Roadbuster, start calling back the less necessary forces. And you," a hand fell heavily on Scoop's shoulder and he started. The cocky grin Springer gave him made his internals heat and swell. "You're coming with us."

* * *

Sorry for the delay, I have my final project due tomorrow and now I have to drive all the way to the city to buy more illustration board because some idiot put the wrong kind in the bin I need DX After this, hopefully updates will be quicker after this. Or maybe some of you would prefer not, just to make this series draw out a bit longer...


	142. Special: Sandstorm and Wreckers

What's Wrong with a Little Destruction?  
The Wreckers

The continuing awesomeness of IDW's top strikeforce!

Notes: This came out a lot longer than I intended. I knew it would be a bit on the long side but I mean looooong. Takes place soon after Thunderwing's first defeat so Cyberton isn't ENTIRELY dead, but it's in a rapid decline. Also takes place just before Octane and Sandstorm.

* * *

Special: Sandstorm and Wreckers

_"You were brought up well still in spite of it all/You're touched by nothing, watch a man fall/Put a foot on his back to get a better view/Cause your loyal to no one, no one but you"  
-Dropkick Murphy, Loyal to No One_

They were shown into a fairly small room in the back with a couple tables occupying most of the space. The larger of the two was all sharp, heavy angles draped in dark neutral tones. The smaller was a more ostentatious purple and yellow scheme. As the door pulled back again, they turned and the latter grinned.

"Sandstorm! Long time, no see!"

Sandstorm glared flatly, arms crossed. "I don't appreciate being called off my time schedule." A dark finger tapped irritably on the joint of his elbow. "This better be good." He looked from the easy grin of one mech to the stiff, glaringly out-of-place posture of the other.

"My buddy here," a thumb jerked back towards the larger mech, "has a proposition for you."

"I don't have time for games, Jazz. I'm a busy mech." Even so, Sandstorm moved to one of the tables, the other two following his lead and sitting opposite him.

The dusky mech gave his companion a curious look. Jazz gave a shrug in return. "You wanted the best. I brought you to the best."

"I don't service." Sandstorm said a hair tersely.

The mech's engine stuttered slightly.

"We ain't askin' you to." Jazz gave a sidelong look to his larger friend. "Unless you want to-"

"No!" Came the spluttered reply. That just made Jazz grin all the more. Across the table the orange mech leaned forward on an arm, unamused. Just what he needed. Someone with _morals_.

"Money, Jazz. My sitting here doesn't make it. What do you want?"

"This guy here has a job proposal he wants to share."

"And does 'this guy' have a name?"

"Sidewinder." The larger mech put in.

"Right." Abruptly Sandstorm stood up. "Have a good life."

"Whoa, whoa, Sandstorm!" Jazz lunged forward to catch the orange mech's arm. It was jerked out of his grip but at least he kept from leaving. "Hang on a klik!"

"I don't think so. You bring this mech into my establishment, pull me from more lucrative business and expect me to believe anything that comes out of him? Fake chassis, fake name and a muddled up energy signature. How stupidly trusting do you think I am?"

Jazz stood back, being as placating as he could. His companion eyed Sandstorm with open curiosity, intrigued by the masked dealer. "It's a safety precaution on our part. There's certain bodies we don't want knowing we're down here." He looked down at the seated mech, then back at Sandstorm with a small grin. "Why don't you tell him what else you've figured out about 'im?"

"What am I? A parlor trick?"

"Humor me. We'll pay your time."

"I don't come cheap you know." But he sat down all the same and leaned back, looking over the dark mech with close scrutiny. "From the way you hold yourself, you're obviously serious military. The fact that you're down here at all says you're not above breaking out of regulation to get what you need, but judging from your reaction to the idea of prostitution, you have a certain moral standing. You're obviously an Autobot for your lack of alliance stamped on your hide and the fact it's Jazz who brought you here. A Decepticon would have little problem skulking the slums of their own territory and a Neutral in this area doesn't move like you. In fact," he gave Jazz a little glare, "it would've been less obvious if you put a Decepticon sigil on him."

A tight smirk flashed at him. "Neither of us are willing to stoop that low, even for pretend."

Satisfied that he was on the right track, Sandstorm continued. "Alright, you're in disguise which means you're either an officer of high rank, someone easily recognizable, someone the 'cons would love to see dead or a mixture of the three. Your alt mode is obviously ground-based, but you've got large stabilizers on you. The presence of wheels strikes out the possibility of a hover vehicle and you look to be heavier than me which means you're no racer and those particular stabilizers are most commonly found on military single-rotary helos." Sandstorm leaned forward, optic band calculating. "Given all the variables, size, mass and the kind of thrusters you have on your legs, I feel pretty confident going out on a limb and not only saying you're a triplechanger, but also pining you down as Springer."

The mech's optic ridge jumped up. "I'm impressed. How do you know my size and thruster type?"

"I'm an information broker. Any time a big name comes up, it's my job to know everything about them. Now- if we're done playing games –what is this offer you have?"

"I want you to join my team."

Sandstorm's optic band curled in a mirthless smile. "This is a long way to go for a joke."

"It's a good thing I'm not joking."

The orange mech leaned back, spreading his hands and saying as breezily as if it was merely a misunderstanding, "I don't think you understand what it is that makes me such an effective information broker. I'm a Neutral. 'Bots like Neutrals. You know where you stand with Neutrals."

"In a big gray area?"

"It means I'm a business mech. It means I don't discriminate with information. It means there's only one thing I care about and that's making money. I answer to no one and I'm loyal only to myself. Slap a faction symbol on me and my effectiveness will be crippled. The information I'd get would more likely be unreliable or incomplete, simply because the other side is paying the source more. The information I give would be considered 'sketchy' and be held at a lower value because- suddenly –I've chosen a side. I've allied myself and that makes me committed to making sure my side wins. So why would I go around sabotaging my own side?" Sandstorm watched Springer carefully, seeing how the words were absorbed. "It's not something I'd be able to hide, either. The moment I leave here with either of you, I can bet someone would come to the conclusion I've thrown my lot in with a faction."

Before they left Jazz warned Springer this would be a hard sell. But he still had a couple different angles of attack before he had to get mean about the situation. "Wouldn't you be able to use an alias?"

"I'm sure Jazz can tell you how difficult it is for a new face to break into this business." Next to Springer's shoulder, the saboteur nodded. "Especially in this day and age. No one wants to put themselves on the line for potentially unreliable information." He dismissed them with a wave. "I'm perfect happy with my current position, I'm sure you can find your own way out."

Lips pulling into a frown, Springer leaned forward on to his elbows. "Cybertron is dying, Sandstorm. Where do you expect to go once Stanix dies out like the rest of the planet?"

"I have plenty of resources at my disposal. I've already got transportation and a destination lined up when the inevitable hits."

"Do you think other races will care enough about factions and neutrality to even give you a chance?"

The question was smoothly ignored. "I'm sure I'm flattered with your persistence, but I highly doubt there's anything you could offer me that would be worth giving up my freedom."

"I'm not asking to enslave you."

"You want me to give up the way I live my life in order to be pushed around and shot at."

"I'm giving you a choice."

"I'm choosing no."

Dark hands wove together and clenched tight in an attempt to hold back visible frustration. "At least let me tell you what we have to offer you."

"Fine." Came the bored acquiescence.

"You'll be our informant. You'd go out on reconnaissance missions, gather intelligence and report what we'd be up against. You'd be expected to fight, but you'll be well trained, armed and armored. You'll have your own private quarters on our ship, given free access to our equipment and energon. There's nothing you'd be lacking."

"Except security for my life."

A small smirk quirked at Springer's lips. "That goes without saying. We're also in need of someone with business sense to take over ordering supplies."

There was a brief, unintentional flicker of interest across Sandstorm's optics. "Supplies?" His impartial tone wavered just enough for the two Autobots to know he was really listening to them now.

"If you decide to take over our supplies, you'd have full control of our finances and acquisitions. You could get your supplies from anywhere you'd wished, no questions asked."

"That's a rather risky situation to be putting yourself in." Came the mild reply. "You'd have no idea if I were skimming credits for myself."

Springer's smirk grew into a grin. "If you do, that's fine with me. It means we've got some kind of credits on us. We're kinda deep in the red right now as it is."

There was a light hum, but Sandstorm gave a disinterested shrug. "Can't say it's worth risking my life for. I'm well aware of the missions your group goes out on and how many of your members you've lost."

"Or is it you're still holding out until Octane makes an offer you can't refuse?"

Sandstorm froze, his manner gone coldly distant as he stared at Jazz, finally having spoken up. "I'm sorry?" He growled flatly.

"You gotta be blind to not see that tanker fawning all over you. So are you close to buckling or you just gonna string him along some more?"

"I'm not 'stringing' _anyone_ along." He growled almost violently. "I'm not and never had planned on taking any sides which would be, surprisingly, why I've consistently turned Octane down. As why I'm turning _you_ down."

"If that's how it's going to be…" Springer trailed off, hands folded almost too calmly before him.

"It is."

"In that case, Sandstorm- I'm placing you under arrest."

His optic band flared brightly. "What?"

A datawafer was pulled from a compartment and slid across the table. "There's been a crack down on criminals, as I'm sure you must be aware of." Springer said evenly. "I asked Jazz to find me the best intelligence operative he could find to be part of my crew. He brought me to you partly because he knew you're exactly what I need and partly because there's a warrant for your arrest. You're being charged on multiple counts of fraud, grand larceny, operating without a license, illegal gambling, breach of privacy-"

Red optics narrowed dangerously. "So you've come to either recruit me or put me in jail."

"You're given a choice-"

"How very magnanimous of you."

"-of willingly joining the Autobots' regular army, becoming a Wrecker, jail or you could always go to the Decepticons." The way Springer's optics faded in resignation showed how little he thought of this tactic. Sandstorm wasn't mollified by that. "I don't want to force you into anything. The most effective soldiers are those that choose to do something of their own free will, not because they've been drafted or forced. And I won't lie- I need someone of your talents and I'm willing to meet most any price you ask for. You'll answer to no one but me and I'll always be there at your back. I can't afford to lose a good source of information, I know you can understand that."

"There is no _choice_ here," the orange mech seethed, "don't try to pretend there is!"

"I can nullify this warrant for a mega-cycle to give you time to come to a decision and get your affairs in order. Think about it carefully. You know what my Wreckers are capable of, you know how we operate. We're a tight-knit group and we'd be far more adept at handling whatever needs you have and your want of freedom than the regular army or a jail would. You could just as easily go to the Decepticons or, if you're that determined to stay Neutral, sneak off-planet. You know better than most," Springer said lowly and Sandstorm found him saying what's been apparent as pressure from Octane and others grew over time, "that someone with your talents wouldn't be ignored for long. Eventually one side will be so desperate for you they won't even give you a choice. No matter how much I need you, I'm not going to force you into this. If you absolutely refuse to work for me, I'm not going to keep pressing."

Sandstorm stayed silent, processors clearly running circles as he ran all the details, trying to figure out how he got in such a position and what to do now that he was there. Springer pushed away from the table and Jazz stood up after him. "There's an encrypted frequency on the wafer where you can contact me. In a mega-cycle that frequency will be obsolete. If I haven't heard from you by then, I'll assume you've rejected my offer. In that case, I'll suggest you watch out for yourself, the warrant will be put back in effect by then. There'll be no telling who decides to turn you in for a reward."

Sandstorm didn't watch as either of the two left, just sat and thought and thought and didn't bother to finish his other business or open his den for the night. He ran scenarios through his head, calculated all the options open to him. The more he thought about it, the clearer the action he had to take became and by the time he was comfortable in his plan, he went to a communications panel to call someone up. "Octane, I've given it a lot of thought. I'm going to accept your offer."

* * *

Finals are done! (throw streamers!) I'm trying to put myself on a schedule I'll hopefully keep even after the next semester starts, but somehow I doubt it'll happen. Regardless, this series will be complete before then.

Sunstreaker: All fake technobabble to my knowledge. I'm a pretty good bullshitter, can you tell? :D

Robin Moto: Thanks! I actually did much, much better on my project than I thought I would!


	143. Special: Broadside and Wreckers

What's Wrong with a Little Destruction?  
The Wreckers

The continuing awesomeness of IDW's top strikeforce!

Notes: A solar maximum (for us) is a period, every 11 years, when the sun is at it's peak of solar activity. Its magnetic lines are the most distorted due to uneven rotation of its magnetic field. It creates a lot of sunspots, flares and coronal mass ejections and also effects our climate. In '89, the solar maximum was so strong it left 6 million people in North America without power and knocked satellites out of orbit. On an even happier note, predictions say the one in 2012 is supposed to be the strongest since the one in the '50s. In which they could see the aurora borealis as far south as Rome. Fun times in outer space!

* * *

Special: Broadside and Wreckers

_"This has been my life. I have found it worth living, and would gladly live it again if the chance were offered me."  
-Bertrand Russell_

Sometimes worries about his team came up at the most inopportune times. Springer couldn't help thinking, even with Decepticons firing at him and immediate threat from stellar activity, about the open position in the Wreckers that needed to get filled. Whirl had been haranguing him about getting another flier in their ranks (which Springer completely understood- two helos did not the most effective air force make) and an accomplished pilot on top of that.

In all honesty, getting a good flier- jet at that –was hard enough. Springer's first picks would've been Skydive or Silverbolt if they weren't already part of their own group. There were plenty of other fliers Springer had known before the war, but most of those had gone to the Decepticons.

That was the problem with jets, he couldn't help but grouse to himself, they tended to be more loyal to the wing than any one side. With footage of Megatron's top three fliers streaming all along Cybertronian news channels in the early days of the revolt, showing off skills far beyond the Autobot's air defense, other jets were automatically drawn to that. They wanted to be part of a stronger wing or to usurp their position as the best. It didn't leave the Autobots with much of an air force and left Springer even less to choose from.

"Springer!" Roadbuster called over. "The solar maximum is en route, all satellite defenses, communications and orbital jumps are now inoperative until its safe for our ships to return and redeploy!"

"Roger that- get everyone into the shelters! Topspin! How's the situation with our supplies?"

"They couldn't get that last shipment to us! We keep going the rate we are, we'll be burn through what we got long before they're able to do another drop!

"I've got an incoming message," Whirl broke in, "a solar sail is going to attempt a supply drop during the max!"

The triplechanger froze. "What?" A stray shot nearly caught him in the shoulder and he cursed at his lapse. "Is that even possible?" He crouched, returning fire and covering the Autobots getting into their protective shelters. Across the field the Decepticon ranks were beginning to this as well.

A long pause filtered over the line and hesitantly Whirl replied, "I've never heard of an attempt so technically it's not _im_possible…"

"Solar maximum just kliks out!" Roadbuster reported in, the Wreckers the only ones still in the open.

"Alright, hustle in! Everyone power down all non-essential systems and make sure you're all properly grounded and insulated!" Even as he said this, Springer propped up a survey camera towards the angle of entry the supply shuttle would take. If he was lucky, he'd be able to catch a glimpse of this suicidal drop attempt before the electromagnetic overload fried the camera.

* * *

"Electromagnetic discharge back in acceptable limits, powering up all systems."

The bunker hummed to life and hands pulled open the insulated doors, too-bright light streaming in. Springer's optics automatically sought out any sign of the shuttle he'd briefly caught streaming violently across the madly fluctuating sky. From the brief footage he reviewed almost obsessively Springer had come to the conclusion the shuttle had come in too steep and too fast. Whirl claimed he could have landed safely even then, but admitted it would've been a challenge even for his skills in order to get the angle of the body right to get the proper drag without shaking the ship apart. Topspin added that the shuttle wouldn't be protected enough and without proper insulation the pilot would've been fried in the maximum.

Against all odds and pessimism, the shuttle was sitting on the airstrip. Obviously worse for wear but _definitely_ intact. "Spin, Whirl- you're with me!" Springer leapt into helo mode, rotary blades spinning madly. "Roadbuster, get everyone resetting operations, Twin Twist- I want a group of heavy lifters assembled to move those supplies in base before the Decepticons come looking for a fight! And find someone with a large truck bed in case we need to carry the pilot out!" Without waiting for an affirmation, he flew towards the shuttle, hoping the pilot hadn't touched down just to make the ultimate sacrifice.

They had to pry open the door to the shuttle and Topspin told them he wasn't picking up any lifesigns within. As they moved into the shuttle they saw a massive gray form slumped in the pilot seat. The medic moved forward, an odd, restrained look twisting his expression at the mech that possibly just saved them and the mission at the cost of his own life. As his sensors moved over the great body, his engine stuttered.

"He's alive! Weak but alive!" He frantically tore at the restraints. "Hurry! Help me get him outside!"

Even for the three of them moving the pilot was a monumental task. He was far taller than Whirl and weighed almost half again the combined weight of all three Wreckers.

Topspin fell over the pilot, muttering observations and procedures to himself as he diagnosed the patient and Springer looked over the horizon to see Twin Twist leading a group of Autobots over. He knelt beside the medic, expression tight and concerned. "How is he?"

"It's surprising enough he's still alive." Came the muttered reply. Nearby, Whirl was inspecting the shuttle.

"He rode in on the solar panels," he said, moving from one end to the other, "the flares were probably stronger than he anticipated which was why he came in too hard, but he made it into atmo before the maximum hit." Blades scraped over the broken panel arms in consideration. "He managed to correct his angle and adjusted the panels to create maximum drag before the ship fried out and the panels snapped off. This crate isn't sailing again."

"He has rudimentary electromagnetic protection." Topspin chimed in tightly. "He shut down enough crucial components and he's got enough built in insulation that he didn't completely burn out. He's probably a stellar flier of some kind. Chief, we need to get him to base. His spark is steady for now, but that discharge knocked out internal support. We don't get him hooked up to a defibrillator, we'll lose him."

Springer nodded harshly and stood up. "Where's that truck?"

* * *

When he onlined, the first thing he saw was a big grin under a blue visor. "You're finally up! Had us worried for a while!" A hand pressed against his chest and he realized the groaning he heard was his attempting to sit up. "Hey, just lay still, alright? You got brought back from the brink, you deserve a bit of a rest." The blue and white mech turned to call out, "Springer- he's up!"

"Good." Another mech came into view, this one green with a congenial smile. "Welcome back to the land of the functioning."

"Thanks for the welcoming." He slurred unevenly. The blue and white mech fiddled with the controls at the berthside and he felt the whole thing adjust until he was propped up in a seated incline. Another mech was standing near the back, a tall and lanky helo. "Supplies made it safely?"

"Amazingly enough," the green one- Springer –said. "You're one helluva pilot."

"Supplies had to get down here one way or another."

"What's your name?"

"Broadside."

"You're a jet, are you?"

"Triplechanger."

"Can you fly as good as you pilot?"

Massive shoulders shrugged. "I'm good enough to still be alive."

A satisfied curl tugged one edge of his lips into a lopsided smile. Looks like his worries were over. "How well can you fight?"

* * *

Flamingmarsh, Naria: Actually, that last chapter was pretty much right before the Octane and Sandstorm one. Meaning Sandstorm joined the Decepticons just long enough for the triplechanger upgrade before booking it to the Autobots. Have I mentioned he's a tricky one?

Tecuma: Haha, oh man. If I focused on the integration of each Wrecker to the team, Sandstorm's would be friggin' NOVEL-length. He had a lot of issues to work through before he really got comfortable with the team.

Elvenarchress: What can he say? When he sees a good deal, he'll go for it XD Joining the Wreckers seemed like the most lucrative option for Sandstorm at the time. Can't make a lot of money in jail, working with Octane was out of the question (can't mix business and pleasure, he's had experience), and joining either of the regular armies would've given him next to no freedoms. Just up an leaving would've worked, but he deals (dealt) in information which is a dangerous enough job without wondering if his contacts are ever going to betray him and get him arrested (or worse)

Springer, I can bet you, would've been pissed when he found out about the operation because I can guarantee Sandstorm didn't tell him until he was forced to go into jet mode. Probably in the middle of a fight. His 'need to know' mentality didn't exactly fit with Springer's during their early acquaintance...

Kyra: Hahaha! That would be the most surreal thing EVER XDDD


	144. Special: Xantium and Wreckers

What's Wrong with a Little Destruction?  
The Wreckers

The continuing awesomeness of IDW's top strikeforce!

Notes: I'm pretty sure I already said this once, but I'll reiterate. I'm sticking with the naval tradition of all ships being designated as female. Set pretty much right after Thunderwing was first defeated.

* * *

Special: Xantium and Wreckers

_"Always set high value on spontaneous kindness. He whose inclination prompts him to cultivate your friendship of his own accord will love you more than one whom you have been at pains to attach to you."  
-Samuel Johnson_

"I gotta admit, when you sent me that proposal, I was surprised."

"I don't see why. This was a long time in coming."

"The fact that it was _you_ that came to _me_ with the idea, not the other way around."

"It's an annoyance shuffling around the manpower to accommodate your traveling."

"Aw, don't say that. I almost deluded myself into thinking you cared."

As much as it pained him to let Springer have the last word, Prowl stayed silent as the doors to the walkway opened. He keyed in the destination on the keypad and the two were whisked passed the various docks of the Hub. The walkway slowed as it drew them even with a catwalk leading to a docked vessel that hung out into space. The lights from a nearby star and those reflecting from the observation windows of the catwalk slid over the deep red exterior of the ship.

With a wave of his hand, Prowl indicated to Springer to make his way through the airlock. "This is Xantium." Obediently the doors opened for them, letting them step through the airlock, through the pressure cabin and into a cargo hold. Their footsteps echoed in the empty cavern. "She has been fully overhauled and is set for active duty."

There was no need to go into further detail, Prowl trusted Springer had already looked over the specs when the tactician first offered to give them use of her. The triplechanger walked around, inspect the area even as he cycled through the files Prowl had sent him on the reformatted battlecruiser.

She was smaller than actual military cruisers, but her speed and fuel efficiency was far better than ships almost twice her size. She had more than ample space, even for a rowdy group like the Wreckers and had been updated with plenty of new weapons and defensive systems. She would be perfect for the job if she were willing to take it.

Springer ambled around until he came across a computer interface placed inside a small alcove along the wall. He looked down at the offline screen and asked softly enough that he voice refrained from echoing, "Can you reply to me?"

There was a moment's pause until the screen flashed on with the stark, business-like characters printed boldly across it. 'Yes.'

"Hey, Prowl!" He called out. "Mind giving us a moment?"

With a soft nod of his head, the tactician retreated back toward the pressure cabin. Springer turned his attention to the screen again. "Name's Springer."

There was a longer pause this time, but the characters scrolled out unhesitatingly, 'I know'.

He chuckled. "It's called an introduction. It's polite."

The lights around him flickered briefly. 'Xantium', came the response from the screen.

"Well, then, Xantium." Springer leaned against the wall, head tilted just enough to look at her words. "I'm not gonna ask why you decided to join in the war effort. Everyone's got their own reasons and not everyone likes to share them. I know from your profile that you've had more than enough experiences with violence. What I want to ask you, though, is how do you feel about fighting?"

Xantium felt her processors stall momentarily. Only one had ever bothered to directly ask her opinion on anything and even then he never considered how she felt about being caught in battles. To him, they shouldn't have concerned Xantium at all. To him, it was his duty to protect her from all fighting. To Xantium, seeing him getting hurt on her account- function or not –made her fusion coils burn.

'I hate it.'

"You're aware that my unit sees the most action out of any others?"

'Yes.'

"And you're okay with this?"

Her soft vibrations dipped low, trying to find the right signals to interpret her internalization and the right characters to translate those signals.

'I don't want others to be hurt.'

"We're Wreckers. We get hurt all that time." Springer ran an idle hand against the wall, tone soft. "We lose a lot of our friends to do our duty. Do you think you can take that chance? You're willing to fight to protect those you care about, but you're not always going to be able to help us when you want to. Do you think you can take the risk of caring for us when any fight could be our last and you won't be able to do a thing?"

The screen stayed blank. Xantium thought over the words, feeling her way around them. She wondered at why she had agreed for the refit, why she agreed to be the Wreckers' ship. They needed her. It was really as simple as that. The Autobots as a whole did, but the Wreckers _needed_ her. They needed a ship they could depend on, that could think for herself. They needed a place to call a base, to call a home and a friend when they lost one of their brothers.

'I want to help all that I can.'

Springer smiled down at the screen, the soft circles his thumb ran along the wall more deliberate and soothing. "I can't ask for anything more." He patted her bulkhead "I'll finalize everything and then you can meet the rest of your brothers."

He left and Xantium realized the reason she agreed to the assignment. She wasn't just a ship to Springer, no mere tool to be used. To him, now, she was a Wrecker. He expected the same things from her as he did from any other member of the team and from himself. Even if he was in command and even if her abilities were limited, she was an equal.

Xantium's internal lights flickered rapidly for a moment, internals a long, slow rumble. She wouldn't regret this, she knew. Not for the rest of her existence.

* * *

Sunstreaker: I'm attempting to keep updates as regular as possible. Sometimes I have the occasion to forget, but I try to keep it about two-three days.

Kyra: Honestly, Prowl and Springer are about the most complicated, multi-faceted and wonderful relationship I've ever dealt with. And that's just if you consider them non-romantically. Throw that in to the mix and it'll probably twist up even more.

Maverickiceman: Wow, I'm impressed you got through all that in two days o.O! I'm glad you enjoyed it enough to do so! Unfortunately I'm not taking any more requests, mainly because- as much as I love these guys -I'm burning out on them. Maybe after a break I'll be willing to write more, but this series will pretty much end at 150.


	145. Special: Topspin and Wreckers

What's Wrong with a Little Destruction?  
The Wreckers

The continuing awesomeness of IDW's top strikeforce!

Notes: As referenced in Caring Wreckers, all the way back in chapter 13. Topspin is basically the only Wrecker (of the current roster) who wasn't recruited directly by Springer.

Also Note: I totally forgot to put this up with the last update, but I guess it's more fitting in this one. I did quick lineart (and another in color) of Topspin and femme!Wheeljack which would've probably been their second meeting.

ajremix . deviantart . com / art / TF-Pre-War-Topspin-Wheeljack-94150428

Just take out the spaces. A link to the colored version is provided on that page. Or in my Scraps, if you can't find the link.

* * *

Special: Topspin and Wreckers

_"They are convinced to the point of arrogance that they are the most ferocious fighters on earth- and the amusing thing about it is that they are."  
-Father Kevin Keaney_

It was a simple mission but still dangerous as all hell. Twin Twist was given two squads of Autobots to lead as he took them to the Decepticon's flank. There, while the rest of the detachment and his team engaged the opposition's entire army, the driller's group would tunnel their way to the Decepticon command center and lop off the metaphorical head (and possibly some literal). That is, Twin Twist would do the actual tunneling, the squads were there to watch his back.

The group hung back behind Autobot lines, counting down the time until they were set to move while the Decepticons were distracted. One of the mechs approached Twin Twist- he tended to remember personality and function over names. Twin Twist heard about this one- hover vehicle, good fighter and fearless. But while he was on friendly and well liked, he didn't have many close friends in the ranks. Apparently he was too reckless for his own good.

"So I was wondering," he said amicably and Twin Twist couldn't help noticing their color schemes were opposite, "since we've got the more dangerous mission, how come we don't have a medic?"

"No medics volunteered."

"What about _your_ medic?"

"Wreckers don't have one."

That seemed to throw him for a loop. "No?"

"Nope." Twin Twist shrugged a bit. "All of us are trained up to the third level maintenance and field repair."

"What about if you need something beyond field repair?"

"I guess we get a chance to see if Primus is real or not."

He shook his head, but a grin was spread over his faceplates. "That's hardcore. Why don't you have a medic?"

"We've tried but none of them can keep up with us."

Under the blue of his visor, the hover vehicle's optics glinted in amusement. "If that's true, I'm looking forward to working with you."

* * *

When the painful ringing in his cranial unit subsided, Twin Twist thought to himself: Next time, come up with a contingency plan.

He should've seen it coming- even if it was a one-in-a-hundred chance in happening, he should've still planned for it. Just because _most_ detachments would fall apart if their command center was destroyed didn't mean they _all_ would and from the way mortar just exploded in his face, Twin Twist could guess which end of the spectrum this unit was on.

Pain burned hot throughout his lower body and through the haze Twin Twist was barely able to make out the ruined form of another Autobot. A hand groped blindly, diagnostics giving haywire reports in his HUD. The shock of his hand grasping open and raw cables made Twin Twist's body seize up and he saw that an entire damn leg had been blown off.

Slag- would it matter if he even got himself to cover? There were no medics with them and no way to get to the rest of the detachment without fighting their way through. No way to get to help before he bled out. Hands gripped at his arms and jerked him roughly across the uneven ground, making him yelp in pain whenever his leg jostled into something hard.

Twin Twist was sent tumbling over the edge of a berm and the noise of war stopped rattling so hard in the driller's head. The hover vehicle he talked to earlier was crouched over him, yelling something that Twin Twist couldn't exactly catch over the noise. Hands clenched his and forced them over the leaking cables and squeezed them tight. His sensory nodes flared in agony, making him throw his head back and scream until strong fingers gripped at his helmet and forced him to _look_.

"Hey!" The voice came at him, sharp and demanding. "Listen to me! You're losing a lot of fluids and I know you're in pain- but _do not_ let your self-repairs seal them off! Do you hear me? Don't let them stitch up!"

He couldn't understand the words, not really, but he knew what he was being told and Twin Twist dumbly nodded. The mech looked over him and Twin Twist felt the vague tingling sensation of scanners- far more sensitive than a regular grunt was equipped with –sweeping across his body. He looked up over the lip of the hole, peering through the dust and hail of bullets. "Sit still and keep those cables clamped down tight! _Make sure_ they don't tie themselves out- I'll be right back!"

Twin Twist was going to retort with something clever, but the other mech had already slipped on to the battlefield, leaving the driller alone, hurt and bleeding. He hissed and gripped the leaking ends of his ruined leg in agony, optics flickering off so he didn't have to see the mess. He focused everything on keeping his automated repairs from closing off the cables but, in exchange, couldn't switch off his pain receptors either. Amber alerts started going off in his HUD, warning him that his fluid levels were rapidly dipping under cautionary low. Just as Twin Twist decided to bite the bullet and tell Springer he wasn't going to make it back, a voice said:

"Move your hands!"

The driller's optics flared online, surprised that the other blue and white returned with… "Is that a leg?"

"Yes, it is."

"Where did you get it?"

"From a Decepticon."

"You what?"

He got a shrug in reply. "Not like he's using it. Well, anymore. It's a little longer than your actual leg, but it's the most compatible to your body type I could get."

Twin Twist gave him a dubious look. "Have you done this kinda thing before?"

To his surprise, with explosions going on around them, the mech _laughed_. "Haha, absolutely not!"

"But you can now?"

"Trust me! I'm not a medic!"

"Oh yeah, I absolutely believe an untrained- AAAAGH! Ermph! Hnnnn!" Twin Twist shuddered in pain, hand clamped down tight between his dental plates.

The hovercraft gave him a sheepish look. "This is gonna hurt."

"NO FRAGGING KIDDING!"

He continued to strip Twin Twist's leg down to the base connectors as carefully as he could. "I know it hurts, but if you switch off your pain receptors, I'd have to do a full reset to your sensory net to reboot them and that'll cause your body to reject the leg. If I leave your receptors off, you won't be able to feel the leg at all."

Twin Twist writhed, trying to simultaneously pull away from the mech and keep as still as possible. "At least tell me your name," he gritted out, "so I know who to cuss out!"

"It's Topspin. And if this works, you'll be back to blowing up 'cons with the rest of us!"

* * *

When they and the last of the Autobot forces caught up to the main detachment the other Wreckers let out a collective sigh of relief. "Geez, Twist," Springer said with a wry smirk, "worry us much?"

Even though Twin Twist was walking he had an arm slung over another blue and white mech's broad shoulders for support. He grinned unrepentantly. "My bad. 'Least we sent those 'cons packing!"

Whirl pointed, head tilted to one side. "What happened to your leg?"

At that, Twin Twist threw his other arm around the neck of the mech next to him, excited gleam in his optics. "This is Topspin. Can I keep him?"

* * *

VAWitch: Dingdingding! You got it! I was hoping the reference wasn't so obscure, but yes. Xantium was recalling Skywarp in that last chapter. Honestly I didn't think I'd become to attached to Ti before writing these fics (and that Jux spin-off) but I really do adore her now.

Maverickiceman: I'll always happily encourage more people to write Wreckers in any way!

Sunstreaker: Springer is such a team player. My version of him is actually a sort of mix of his Marvel UK version (which would be the younger, less experienced version) and his cartoon version (the more confident, experienced version). What I really like about the Marvel UK version is that he goes through a couple different crisis of his ability to lead which I think really helps cement his ability to BE a good leader. And yes, poor Ti and all other sentient ships probably get so easily overlooked.

Bluebird: I'm glad you enjoyed the series enough to read through it all, I know how daunting it appears with well over 100 chapters to get through. I hope you and everyone else continues to enjoy it to the end!


	146. Special: Twin Twist and Wreckers

What's Wrong with a Little Destruction?  
The Wreckers

The continuing awesomeness of IDW's top strikeforce!

Notes: Takes place not too long after Optimus gains the title of Prime. Twin Twist was the first Wrecker to join after the initial roster of four. Which, I guess, would make him a sort of second generation Wrecker.

Also Note: So... wow. I just realized that, this day today, the 22nd, I've been writing Destruction for a year. A whole friggin' year. It doesn't really seem like it, does it? I mean- really. Where did all that time go? One entire year. Wish I noticed sooner, I would've done something special for it. Like, I dunno, art or something. Something other than an angsty chapter.

* * *

Special: Twin Twist and Wreckers

_"Patriotism is not something you can get in return for a monthly paycheck to a man in uniform. It is devotion to an ideal- a principle; a burning desire that the things that people think are best for their country and its people are...protected from any and everything which would tend to lessen in the mind of the individual the image he has of how things should be in his ideal country."  
-General David M. Shoup_

A ragged sigh filtered across the hall. The prisoner, curled in as much as physically possible, shuddered as hands touched the gaping chambers at his back. Optimus Prime stood frozen, had yet to be in his position long enough to develop an immunity to the cold, furious glare of an officer's optics.

"I am not happy." Springer seethed. "At all."

"I understand."

"Do you even know why he's here?"

He did. He had the prisoner's file scrolling along the side of his HUD.

"Because he was a miner. That's it. No other reason." The triplechanger's engine growled darkly. "He has no prior charges, he has a clean record- the only reason he was out on the streets in the first place was because all the mines were shut down after the Kaon riot and whoever wasn't incarcerated _then_ was left to survive on their own. With _nothing_, Prime! Most of them had never been out of a mine in their _lives_ and they were dumped planetside without even access to their own savings!"

Springer knew going off on Optimus Prime wasn't right- it wasn't his fault what was left of the Senate panicked so stupidly or that the law offices ordered the arrest of damn near all refugees coming out of Kaon. It wasn't his fault, but he need to _see_.

"He's a known associate of Frenzy and Rumble." It was a weak argument, but it needed to addressed.

"To get _energon_. For _himself_. He was never ID'd at any rallies or attacks, he has no sigil, carried no weapons. He was trying to _survive_. Can we really punish him for that? Especially since the Security Force really isn't doing much of a relief effort?"

"No." Optimus Prime agreed, optics dimming. This one was far from the only prisoner kept in the cells, but he'd been there the longest, isolated from everyone else and his drills had been removed from his back. It wasn't the fact he was a prisoner that disgusted the two officers, it was how he was being treated.

He tapped into the comm link, "Optimus Prime to security."

"_Security here, sir._"

"Track down your director. I want the prisoner in Cell 5A-9 out of here."

"_…sir?_"

"I want him to be medically attended, all belongs- including his drills –returned to him, all fluids topped off, dropped where ever he wants to go and given enough credits to last a deca-cycle and I want this done _now_."

"_I… yessir. I'll contact the director immediately._"

The tension in Springer's shoulders eased. "You know this is pretty much too little, too late."

"It's better than nothing."

"It'll take the better part of mega-cycle for this to go through."

Optimus Prime huffed. "I know. You'd think my order would get instant results." He gave the Wrecker a sideways look. "Unless you can think of something quicker…"

There was a thoughtful hum. Then, "I think I do."

* * *

He didn't hear the absence of humming bars or approaching footsteps. He jerked violently at the careful call, "Twin Twist."

He pressed into the wall, shaking uncontrollably and unable to focus his optics correctly. "Wh-What d-d-do you want-t?"

Springer frowned at the stuttering. The mech sounded short of having an utter mental breakdown. "Easy. I'm not going to do anything. I just want to talk. Maybe help get you out."

"I-I got nuh-nothing to say to y-y-you Autobots-s! I don't nu-know anyth-ing!"

It was only through careful control Springer was able to keep the rage from his expression. What did they _do_ to this poor mech?

"I just want to talk, okay?" With his hands out, as non-threatening as possible, Springer moved to lean up against the wall by the berth. Twin Twist scooted to the edge, as far away as he could get.

"My name is Springer. Optimus Prime is ordering your release. You'll be cleared by medical, refueled and have your drills reattached. You can go anywhere you like and you'll be given credits to help you on your way."

"I don't-don't tr-trust you."

"After what they put you through, can't say I'd be any different. It'll take a while for everything to go through but… there _is_ a way to get you out of here quicker."

Twin Twist eyed him warily. "Why sh-should I bel-ieve you?"

"Because I want to help you."

"Wh-why do you c-c-c-care?"

"Because this isn't right. All this," Springer waved a hand, "what they're doing to you- none of this is right and I won't let you put up with this any more than you have to."

"I should-ve listened t-to Rumble and Fren-zy. They warned muh-me this would hap-p-pen."

"And it shouldn't have." He looked at the driller in the optics, willing him to see how much Springer wanted to make this right. "I have a free-spot on my roster. I can have you put under my care."

"A wha-wha-what?"

"I lead a strike force called the Wreckers- probably hadn't heard of us. We haven't been around for that long."

"I ca-can't f-f-fight."

"I'm not expecting you to, I just want to get you out of here. You can stay with us for as long or as short as you want. You'll get paid so long as you're with us and you can leave at anytime without trouble."

"I don-don't- _can't_ trust y-you."

"You can either wait for Prime's order to finally filter down the pipe or you can leave here, with me, _right now_. I want to make things right. That's all."

Twin Twist scrutinized him for a long moment, silence interrupted only by the raw, uneven hiccups of his engine. Slowly, reluctantly, he nodded. "Al-Alright."

Springer held out a hand and the feel of Twins Twist's shuddering against his palm made that anger flare up again. All this would have served to do was give Megatron's group more sway, more recruits.

As he pulled the driller to his feet, he fell against Springer's chest and panic swept through the larger mech. "Hey-"

A shiver of relief shook the neglected frame, so grateful to feel someone there and alive and not being alone again. Twin Twist gave broken sigh. "Thank you."

* * *

Narcoleptic Spazz: It was chapter 13, Caring Wreckers the mention was made. Actually there's a chapter or two of them with their toys. 12- Turned on Wreckers is the first one I can recall. 81- Wheeljack and Wreckers II is more of an aftermath of playing with 'toys'. There may be more that showcase them and fun equipment but I can't think of them at the moment.

Tecuma: Hope you're doing okay in storm central over there! If Topspin went on to being a full fledged medic instead of dropping out, he'd probably either be bored as hell or driving all the other medics crazy XD

Sunstreaker, Tiamat: While I'm sure Ratchet is impressed and thankful at the innovative ways Topspin keeps others alive, sometimes... just sometimes he'd really like to take a spanner to the back of his head XD

Kyra: Aw, thank you for the review! I just love having fun with characters, examining all the little bits of them so it really warms my heart to hear other people have come to enjoy them as much as I have!


	147. Special: Whirl and Wreckers

What's Wrong with a Little Destruction?  
The Wreckers

The continuing awesomeness of IDW's top strikeforce!

Notes: At this point the Wreckers still haven't been fully formed and haven't taken any missions.

Also Note: Apologize for the delay. I had trouble logging into the site for a bit.

* * *

Special: Whirl and Wreckers

_"One of the serious problems in planning the fight against American doctrine, is that the Americans do not read their manuals, nor do they feel any obligation to follow their doctrine."  
-From a Soviet Junior Lt's Notebook_

The jets' course was at peak activity when he realized an audience had arrived. Helo though he was, Whirl made the highest aggressive setting of the course look easy, dodging fire and countering missiles as if it were a second thought. He wasn't going to be setting any speed records, but he was racking up the points nonetheless. Standing just outside the danger zone, Springer could see why Roadbuster recommended him.

He watched the dual rotor helo bank and curve, evading attacks with inherent grace, making maneuvers even Springer would've been hesitant to try. He watched patiently, mesmerized, until the course wound down and Whirl circled in place, keeping alert in case something suddenly came at him.

"I'm impressed!" Springer said over a comm link. For a moment it seemed that Whirl was just going to ignore him, but slowly he drifted over.

"It's nothing." There was no modesty in his tone, just resignation. "I've done this enough times it's stopped being a challenge."

"If you want a challenge, I think I've got something for you."

"You want me to join your strike force."

Springer stopped momentarily, the wind taken out of his sail. "Well, yeah. Roadbuster tell you about it?"

Whirl went into a hover over Springer's head, rotors making a soft-deep cutting beat. "Briefly. He told me he recommended me to deal with your air tactics."

Glad he didn't have to go into much detail, Springer nodded. "That's right. So what do you think?"

"Roadbuster thinks highly of you. I already know he plans on joining up."

"And you?"

"How much did he tell you about me?"

Springer shifted on his peds, stabalizers flexing a little. "He's told me you're a bit of an eccentric, you're the most talented helo he's ever seen and you have a bit of a problem with High Command."

"That's right. Most officers consider me problematic, results or not. I don't like taking orders from them. Why would I prefer taking them from you?"

"This is just speculation, but I think the reason you chaff under your command isn't so much you've got a problem with authority as it is they don't seem to care." The triplechanger spread out his hands. "Stop me if I'm wrong. To you it seems like all anyone cares about is making themselves look good. They force you to do without the equipment you need, without the proper training or intel you should rightly have. You're forced to make due and jump through hoops, but they don't care, do they? If you do it right, they get the credit. If you do it wrong, you're the one that's incompetent. Am I wrong?"

Whirl tilted slightly, nose pointing just to Springer's right. "No. Not yet."

So he went on, "They bust you down because they don't want someone with struts threatening their glory. They don't care what it takes to get the mission done or how many lives it costs just so long as it's done. They bend the rules to fit their agendas, then smack you down when you try to tell them they're in the wrong. That's what it's always like, isn't it? Sweeping all the bad to the rear to make themselves into heroes. Even though they're not the ones risking their lives."

Springer watched the helo make little movements to keep from settling into his own downwash and causing a vortex ring state. "How are you any different?"

"Because I care about lives and getting things done right. Because I'll be right there next to you, facing the same dangers you will. Because I've been burned by the system and my superiors before and I've seen actual heroes being passed over or punished for having integrity.

"What the Autobots have here is a flawed system. They're too focused on structure, on rank and appearances that they don't care about morality anymore. The system is too big and deep-rooted to shake it down. So I'm starting something on the outside. Something that they can't cover up, some thing they'll be forced to notice, something they'll never, ever be able to corrupt."

"You'll have to forgive my skepticism," Whirl said with anything but contrition, "but how is what you're telling me any different than the lipservice they give the rest of us?"

A small smile crossed over Springer's lips. "Roadbuster told me you like learning about new things. He says you get easily bored and are always researching whatever random thing catches your attention. That's why you're so good at what you do, that's why you're a helo that can survive a jet course without a single ding. I also know you've had ideas rejected by High Command- having airborne mechs learning how to fight on the ground, ground-based mechs learning to pilot ships. I think it's a natural thing, myself, to cross-train because I've been on the outside. Going mercenary is far more difficult than you'd think because you have to break all conventions of your model-type in order to survive. You have to learn how to mix it up and adapt.

"Our enemy may be disorganized and undisciplined, but they don't act like their model-types should. They have no doctrine to follow, no rules of engagement, it's anything goes for them. Command punishes you for thinking outside the box when they should be commending it. The Security Force is static and inflexible and if it doesn't correct that, it's going to be run over. Brutally."

Whirl couldn't help humming thoughtfully with Springer saying everything Whirl felt. The Autobots were a cage that he couldn't stay in for much longer, not without doing something self-destructive to himself.

Even if this strike force didn't work out, Whirl found himself not caring. He'd be with others that could think and be independent and would break out of convention. It was something new, something different and, most importantly, it was with those that _understood_.

"Just one more question." Whirl said. "You said something about thinking outside the box. How far out do you mean?"

"As far as you want."

"Essentially you're telling me I can do whatever I want."

"Within reason, of course. So long as you don't harm the operations of the team, I wouldn't care if you dedicated the entirety of your life recreating life sized models of the Thirteen with washers. You can do what you want, know what you want and be what you want. In the end, it's your life and your decision. I shouldn't tell you what to do and- more importantly -_you_ shouldn't let me."

Whirl's rotors slowed, letting him descend and hover low to the ground, comm silent save for the hum and rhythmic beat of his engines. "Alright." He said eventually. "We'll see how this team up pans out."

* * *

To everyone: Thank you for the reviews! Only a few more chapters left, I hope everyone continues to enjoy to the end!

Anhai: I wouldn't be surprised if the Decepticons got lots of recruits because the Autobots/government handled things so badly at the start of it all.

GreendEATHpop: (blush) You give me too much credit, but thank you! Hopefully the rest of the chapters continue to be interesting!

Kyra: Sadly enough, the idea for that last chapter is taken from actual historical events, such as the way the South Korean government reacted to North Koreans bribing the peasants with rice to come to their rallies or the camps the American government forced their Japanese citizens into during WWII. Definitely moments like those you need someone like Optimus or Springer to be the voice of reason and morality.

Dragowolf: I won't hesitate to admit that I tend to idealize the military, even after four years being in the grinder. But I still hold that a leader worth following is one that earns your respect, not because they have rank. I was lucky enough to have superiors like that and even know, a couple years being out, there's still very little I wouldn't do if they asked me. I'm very happy to have known them if not just so I had someone to model Springer off of.


	148. Special: Roadbuster and Wreckers

What's Wrong with a Little Destruction?  
The Wreckers

The continuing awesomeness of IDW's top strikeforce!

Notes: Takes place almost immediately after Optimus ascends to rank of Prime.

* * *

Special: Roadbuster and Wreckers

_"From the individual Marine to our institution as a whole, our model is the thinking and stoic warrior who fights more intelligently than his enemy and is inured to hardship and challenges."  
-General James L. Jones_

The cables in Springer's hand contracted in effort to keep himself from tossing the datapad away in disgust. "A civil affairs mech. Of all the fragging officers to choose from, we've got a face-saver for a Prime!" The triplechanger barely didn't slam the memo on the table, unable to trust his ability not to break it.

"Hrm." Roadbuster grunted through his vents. "Never dealt with him myself, but I've heard of him. Good diplomatic skills, good negotiator, good relations with all the major and several minor public sectors, including politicians. All of which Sentinel Prime was severely lacking."

"We're in a _civil war_, Roadbuster. Senators have been murdered, Kaon and its outlying suburbs razed and Primus knows how many dead. Somehow I think it's a little late for all this to be smoothed over with a container of energon and a little sit-down. What are we going to do with a leader that doesn't know slag about battle tactics?"

The larger mech tapped a finger against his knee for a moment. "He'll probably need someone that knows about that kind of thing, a small group ready to scramble and be where ever and when ever they're needed."

Springer stopped and stared and kept staring until Roadbuster returned it with a significant look of his own. "…" he pressed his lips together. "No. I'm not going to take advantage of someone that doesn't know any better."

"I wouldn't call it 'taking advantage of'. More like a preemptive request. Get it in now while he still has the time to mull over the decision before he gets too swamped and starts regulating things back down to Prowl."

Springer's optics narrowed into a blue line. "I'm certain there was a time," he said mildly, "you were supposed to be my conscience."

A green optic band flashed with mirth. "I like to mix it up a bit."

Though they shared a chuckle, there was something pensive and reserved where Springer was normally so unrestrained. Roadbuster leaned forward, being sure to catch his optics. "What's wrong?"

"Wrong? Why would-"

"Don't even try. Just tell me."

Springer looked at his friend, mouth cinched tight and felt foolish for his doubts, but afraid that they were true. That they were true and Roadbuster would never tell him they were because when it came to Springer, that was the kind of mech he was.

"Are," he started slowly, "are you sure this is okay? You being my second?"

"Well, I will admit that I'll miss being able to order you around." When Springer didn't rise to the bait, Roadbuster shifted forward a little more, dropping his voice despite the fact they were alone in his office. "What's got you so worried?"

"I'm just… worried about you. And your career. Even if we get Prime's okay, do you realize how many would be wanting this to fail on us? Partly because it's something so new and different- they'll think we won't be able to justify taking up resources they want to push to the front. Mostly you know it's because of me." Springer leaned back in his seat, spreading his arms out. "I didn't make a lot of friends in command when I left the first time and I sure as hell didn't make any when you asked me to come back."

"And we'll prove them wrong. I don't doubt that."

He wasn't getting it and Springer's shoulders dropped, reluctant to actually say it. But Roadbuster wasn't going to back down so he cycled air through his vents and said, "You don't have to join me if you really don't want to."

That made Roadbuster sit back, head tilting in confusion. "Why wouldn't I want to?"

"You've got a good thing going for you right now. You're the ground commander of an entire _battalion_. At the rate you're going, you'll have no problems being in charge of a division, probably get yourself a seat in Prime's inner circle." Springer paused, rubbing at his helmet and unable to look his closest friend in the optic. "I don't want you throwing all that away just because I'm asking you to come with me. This is your career and leaving it just to be my second- I'm not gonna lie, that's one helluva demotion for you. I mean- hell. I reenlisted but I feel more like a hired gun than an officer again, so I don't really care how this might affect my record. But you-"

"Springer," Roadbuster cut in abruptly, "I can't think of a thing I wouldn't do for you-"

"That's what I _don't_ want."

He continued right over Springer. "-but that's not the only reason why I agreed to be your second. When you first told me this idea I would've left with you at a moment's notice. It would've been a terrible mistake on my part, I'll admit, because I didn't understand the point behind this group back then. But I get it now. After being stationed in Kaon, after seeing how everything went down, I get it. Even more than because you're my friend and someone I trust, I want to be a part of this because the Autobots _need_ something like the Wreckers.

"The Wreckers would demonstrate everything the Security Force is lacking- a quick response team, individuals that can perform all orders given to them while displaying initiative and intelligence in assessing situations. The ability to work as an isolated team or integrate with larger units when needed, each member able to command a small group in battle if necessary. Where the rest of the Security Force is bogged down with greedy or cowardly officers and soldiers that rarely even touch their weapons, you want to assemble a team of highly disciplined warriors that think even better than they fight." Roadbuster folded his arms across his chest, giving Springer a long look. "At a time like this, when we need mechs that can handle themselves in a firefight and don't need their hands held, why wouldn't I want to be a part of it?"

"Well, when you put it that way…"

"If I'm going to be your second, have faith that I can think things through and I won't just be following you blindly."

Springer grinned, a little embarrassed that he underestimated how much Roadbuster had thought about this. "You know if this does go through, we'll have next to nothing in ways of supplies until we prove ourselves, right?"

"Improvise, adapt and overcome. That's how Kup trained us." Under his mask, Roadbuster gave a slow, edged grin. "You know Prowl will be torqued that you went over his head and brought this directly to Prime."

Springer grinned the same grin back. "You really don't have to try to convince me anymore, but the thought _does_ warm my spark."

* * *

Flamingmarsh: Hah! Only if you keep me fed, clothed and indulge in my occasionally expensive weaknesses!

Dragowolf: Oh, yeah. I was lucky to have them. Especially since there were others in my chain of command who... well, let's just say the ones I liked acted as a buffer between the higher ups and us lower guys. I probably wouldn't have come out of there with a spotless record otherwise.

VAWitch, JML: That's one of the things I really loved about M: Origin. Everyone hears 'Autobot' and think of a kind, peace-loving faction that fights for good. And then that mini-series comes along and turns that idea on its head. I'm probably forever going to be using that as my base for the rest of the TF universe.

GreendEATHpop: I don't really consider myself to be particularly modest, but I can't help but think you and so many others are far too kind to me in your reviews! I write these things just for fun, so I'm very happy just knowing others are enjoying them at all. But thank you again, and I hope I continue to entertain in anything else I write!

Sunstreaker: Oh, no XD I think Springer and Prowl have spent too much time antagonising each other that even if Springer WANTED to, Prowl would most likely be immune to any of his attempts to charm XD

RogueRaven, Eerie Iri: Welcome to the immensely long party! :D


	149. Special: Springer and Wreckers

What's Wrong with a Little Destruction?  
The Wreckers

The continuing awesomeness of IDW's top strikeforce!

Notes: Takes place shortly before Impactor's death and Springer's dismissal/leaving the Autobots pre-war.

* * *

Special: Springer and Wreckers

_"Marines die, that's what we're here for. But the Marine Corps lives forever. And that means _you_ live forever."  
-GySgt R. Lee Ermey_

All but one of the team leaders dispersed and the one that remained Impactor indicated to follow after as the purple and gold mech moved through the ranks. "There something you want to say?"

Springer kept pace easily, modulating his vocalizer to keep his words from carrying. "You didn't give us the change in contact procedure."

"Your buddy in 5th told you, huh?" Impactor shook his head lightly. "No, I didn't and no I'm not. Fire on sight is one of the dumbest commands to ever be thought up and I'm not going to filter it down the pipe."

"I don't get it. We're in hostile territory here. How's that a bad command?"

"Theory and practice, Springer, are two completely different things. I know you're aware of that."

"Well, yeah…"

"In theory, fire on sight would have us dropping the enemy before they even fire a shot. In practice, it practically gives us an excuse for endangering any non-combatants or just generally acting like fools." He gave Springer a sideways look. "I trust my team leaders to do their job and assess if something is a threat or not. I'd like to trust all my mechs- I really would –but there's an awful lot of very young, very inexperienced soldiers on our line. If they're told they don't have to consult with their team leaders on a threat, think how many of them will start jumping at shadows and the sound of their own engines hitching? Next thing you know, one will start firing at an indistinguishable shape and then the whole line opens up and come daybreak we'll find out we wasted ammunition shooting rocks the whole night."

Springer couldn't help snickering. "Had experiences like that, sir?"

"Don't tell anyone because they never figured out who started it," Impactor lowered his voice and leaned in closer, "but I was that one." When the younger officer burst out laughing, Impactor tried to hide a grin with a scowl. "I was young and nervous and if you tell anyone I'll deny all knowledge of it!"

The triplechanger waved a hand in acquiescence, trying to smother his loud cackles into low snerks. "Okay, okay, I promise!"

The two continued to walk the line, occasionally pausing to check up on a squad or when someone stopped them to ask for clarification on some procedure or find out if supplies were to be coming in soon. Springer always enjoyed following Impactor through the line, always liked how both officers and enlisted felt confident enough to approach him with concerns or just invite him for a quick chat. He felt privileged to have an officer like Impactor. Some of Springer's buddies in other platoons had some real aft-heads in charge of them that didn't seem to have a shred of intelligence or give a damn.

"You know," Impactor said suddenly as they left a group of mechs lounging against a berm, "I like being out here on the field like this, being in charge of all these mechs but, sometimes…" he sighed softly, Springer at his side being supportively quiet. "Sometimes I think command expects too much from them."

"What do you mean? We haven't been doing too bad in my opinion. Pretty damn good, all things considered."

They came to a stop, Impactor turning with his arms across his chest. "Think about what you just said, Springer."

"What?"

"'All things considered'?"

"Well, yeah. I mean- like that raid we did half a deca-cycle ago? We were lucky to come out of that with just minor casualties."

"That's my point. These troops- all of them," Impactor said, waving a hand, "aren't trained for half the things command has them doing. They're a fighting group, they can do that. They can be pointed in a direction and be let loose for battle. That's what they were trained to do. But this unconventional tactics they're making us do? Since when was regular infantry trained for that? Being trained as a squad and being _self-suficiant_ as a squad are two completely different things.

"These mechs don't know how to set up any traps more complex than a claymore and tripwire. Hell, half the officers don't even know how to properly call in an air strike and here we are, expected to pull off missions we're not trained _or_ equipped for." Impactor shook his head, sighing. "I've got a mind to put a request up to High Command, asking permission to start up a strike force."

Springer tilted his head curiously. "A strike force?"

"Yeah. A light infantry special operations unit. Specially trained to deal with heavy artillery, explosive ordinance, infiltration, quick response, direct action- basically being the kind of hammer strike command expects regular grunts to be." He turned to the triplechanger with a slight smile to his lips. "They'd have to have a completely different mentality. They wouldn't be able to depend on outside help- just them and that's it. They have to _know_ they can take on any challenge, they can't be afraid to go in and raise hell. They have to be smarter than the enemy, more adaptable, more willing to pull no punches and to get in the first strike."

Now Springer was thoroughly intrigued, wanting to know all about this strike force. "Been giving it a lot of thought, have you, sir?" He didn't quite keep his tone light, curiosity evident.

"I have. A small group, probably no more than two squads, as capable of working in small teams as they'd be integrating with a larger unit. Knowledgeable in recon, intel gathering, special ops and unconventional warfare. Take the fight right into the heart of the enemy." Impactor smiled to himself, focus far away as he spoke. "The hardest group of reckless, fearless, merciless mechs- that's the Wreckers."

"The Wreckers." Springer teased, lips quirked up high to one side. "Couldn't have been, I don't know, _imaginative_ about it, huh? Just went for the first cheese-name you could think of?"

"Hey, it's a perfectly fine name! Explains what exactly they do!"

"I'll bet you even have a battle cry thought up for them too, don't you?" When Impactor stayed suspiciously quiet, Springer's grin grew ten fold. "You do, don't you! Oh- I gotta hear this!"

"Not if you're gonna laugh."

"I won't laugh!"

"Yeah- I doubt that."

"No, really, I won't laugh."

Impactor crossed his arms, regarding the eager, young mech before him. "Alright, fine. But if you laugh, I won't consider you for a potential member, compute?"

"Compute."

His mouth twisted up, as if he were fighting to get the words out. Very quickly and very quietly he mumbled, "Wreck'n rule."

"BWAHAHAHAHA!"

"Alright- that's it. You're at the top of my black list now." Impactor announced grandly, striding away from Springer's hysterical laughter.

"Hahaha- oh no! No way! I'll bust my skidplate to get in on this! Silly battle cries and everything!"

The other mech kept walking briskly, ignoring the odd looks he got as Springer staggered after him, still breaking a gasket laughing. "I don't think so. Not if you can't learn to treat your commanding officer with the respect he deserves!"

"Please," Springer managed to get his laughing under control, but he caught up to Impactor just enough to jostle shoulders with him, "you wouldn't have kept me around if that's what you wanted! I'm here because you need to someone to make sure you _don't_ end up like those other officers who only get treated like they're the best things to ever grace the universe!"

The sideways glare he got lasted all of half a nano-klik before Impactor broke out into his own grin and bumped back into the triplechanger. "If only everyone's pain in the aft were as effective as you."

"So c'mon. Tell me more about this group of yours!"

"Like I said, they'd be a specialized team. Trained to do jobs too dangerous for anyone else to attempt…"

* * *

S. Phantom: Yeah. I like drama and seriousness every now and again, but so much one after another is a bit of a stretch for someone like me who will usually choose comedy over them :P

Bluebird: Hope you had a happy (or will have) birthday! I have a soft spot for all the Wreckers, but Roadbuster, I think, is definitely one of those that are underappreciated or taken too much at face-value. I like exploring his character.

cmdrtekk: I guess it depends on how you view Cybertronian society? To me they're all about everyone working together for the greater good. Such a small, self-contained group set away from everyone else would probably be unheard of- especially in the military. It would be a drastic change from convention and we all know how much people like change that flies in the face of everything they think is right XD

Silveriss: Legendary? Oh, I just took a pre-existing (to a minor extent) relationship and played with it. I don't know about legendary, but I'm happy to know other people like seeing the two pitted together XD And I know exactly what you mean. One of the only reasons I hate missing out on work- especially when I was fulltime -was because I knew I'd come back to a huge clusterfuck. I mean, I like some of the people that I work with, but that doesn't mean they're very organized or communicative.

Dragowolf, Star Lin: Is it kinda terrible that every time I think of Springer or Roadbuster it's always the two of them together? Or at least with the other one hanging around nearby? They come off as close friends to me, but now they're practically inseperable in my head X3

Tomorrow: For me? Their dislike goes as far back as officer training. In my head they ended up as roommates during training and just... snipped at each other all the time. And haven't stopped since XD

To everyone: Thanks for all the reviews and keeping up for so long! Just one more chapter after this. I won't lie, part of me really doesn't want to end this but... well, I do want to start focusing on other things, too. But I'm glad I was able to share these guys with all of you!


	150. Special: Wreck and Rule

What's Wrong with a Little Destruction?  
The Wreckers

The continuing awesomeness of IDW's top strikeforce!

Notes: I'm not going to lie. Part of me doesn't want to put this chapter up, part of me doesn't want to end this even as part of me was looking forward to it before I began writing this last chapter. It's been so much fun writing these guys, but after 150 chapters... well, even I can't claim I can keep them interesting forever (i'm shocked that i did for as long as i have). I'm so happy so many people have enjoyed reading about them, that I've introduced this group to so many new readers and reintroduced them to those (like me) that loved them in the Marvel UK comics.

Thank you, all my readers. To the ones that stuck out from the first chapters to the ones that came in during the middle to those that started reading even after I put this last chapter up: thank you for your support and your interest. To those that reviewed once or multiple times, thank you for taking the time to do so and for those of you that reviewed every (or 70 percent), my God are you dedicated XDD

This won't be the last time I write the Wreckers, I can tell you that right now, though this is most likely going to STAY the last chapter of Destruction. I certainly hope others will be encouraged to give them a try. I'd love to see others' interpretations and I don't really mind if you use my ideas as a launching pad. There needs to be more of these guys so share the love!

* * *

Special: Wreck and Rule

_"For men of the same tribe or family little value one another when dangers press; but a band cemented by friendship grounded upon love is never broken, and is invincible."  
-Pammenes_

"Here's the preliminary information we were given."

"Yeah, that's some bind they've got themselves in."

"So what's the plan, Chief?"

Springer studied the numbers and positions, various analyzers and programs whirling at a dizzying rate- planning, discarding, modifying, testing and retesting thousands of moves in an instant. At one side was Roadbuster, Whirl on the other, both watching the blips on the holographic terrain map, processors churning numbers and results just as fast. Opposite them the other Wreckers waited patiently for their assignments.

"The detachment knows to expect us, right?" The triplechanger asked, optics not moving off the map.

"We got an encrypted message down to them. They know we're here."

_(They all know the Wreckers only come when things are at their most hopeless, but news of their arrival bolsters the Autobots and the Decepticons can't help but be surprised- maybe even a little afraid –at the sudden renewed resistance. The Autobots press their advantage- even those whose line is on the verge of crumbling. The mere presence of the strike force, their very name gives strength and courage to those on the frontlines. The Wreckers come when things are at their darkest. The Wreckers come and they turn the tide of battle. The Wreckers make the impossible happen. They make even the most average Autobot feel as if they can be as invincible, as if they can make the impossible possible._

The Wreckers are one of the few that can change the course of a fight before they even set foot on the planet.)

"With both moons in the positions that they are," Whirl put in suddenly, "it's causing just enough interference to the Decepticons' orbital relays that they haven't picked us up yet."

"Scoop- you think you can hack into one of their satellites for Xantium to bounce us without alerting them?"

The shovel made a show of cracking his fingers. "It might be a bit of a challenge, but that's what I'm here for!"

"Good. The longer it takes for them to realize we're here, the more of an advantage it gives us." Springer's hands danced over the map, enlarging one area in particular. "Alright, we'll land here. That'll put us within easy distance of the front but far enough away the Decepticons won't be able to pick up the particle build-up. Xantium, after we're on the surface, keep cloaked in the interference. When we're set to begin a massive offensive, I'll give you a signal to pick off the Decepticon orbital relays."

Xantium's lights flashed in an affirmative. Springer smiled, patting the curve of her console. "Good."

_(The same interference that's been keeping her from detection also keeps Xantium from locking her weapons on the satellites but she long ago programmed the calculations and positions into her weapons systems. As Springer's signal flashes through her receivers, Xantium maneuvers just far enough from her cover to fire on the satellites, all of them silently blossoming in their high orbits. The Decepticons have no idea what's happening, they pick up no signal, they have no idea a battlecruiser is high over their heads._

They don't know that Xantium is already powering up her weapons, waiting for the coordinates for their command center, missile silos, weapons storage, anything she'll be called on to hit. She hangs up there, an invisible reaper hidden in the dark shadows between twin moons. She is patient. She will wait forever if she has to because she will always have patience and she will always have faith in her mechs.)

"I don't like this empty space right here." Springer growled, jabbing a finger at the point in question. The holoimage zoomed in, the glowing lines denoting terrain features the only thing that floated in front of them. There were no structural markers, no moving units, just vast nothing.

Next to him, Roadbuster brought up the intelligence report they received from the base, the text scrolling through the air. "Apparently there's some sort of scrambler set up in that area. Couldn't get a read on it before the 'cons blasted out their satellite systems."

The triplechanger let out an annoyed growl. "Sandstorm- that's all yours."

"Do you want me to stir up some trouble while I'm there?"

"Priority is finding out what they're trying to hide. After that, use your best judgement to handle the situation. But," Springer smirked darkly, "I won't be adverse to you making their lives Pit."

Sandstorm's red visor flashed. "I was hoping you'd say that."

_(Despite the heavy fighting at the front the area is still heavily guarded which doesn't bode well for the Autobots one way or another. Sandstorm already sniped three Decepticons- one of which looked to be of fairly high rank –and he knows there's no less than two squads out looking for him. Of course, one squad is off in the hills and another trawling along the riverbank. Sandstorm himself is camped out just beyond the sensory perimeter of whatever it is the Decepticons are hiding._

He can't make out just what it is, but it looks big and it seems to be absorbing a lot of energy. He sits, crouching in the shadows, and debates what he should do. Even with those squads on a wild goose-chase, hunting down phantom signals Sandstorm left behind for them, it's too dangerous to get out of radio scanning range to report in. He doesn't trust how the situation looks anyway.

Well, he thinks to himself, switching the settings on his rifle with silent ease, I'm here to be tricky. Time to earn my pay.

It takes a lot of focus to draw his electrical signature in tight- he can't show up even as a random blip on their scanners for this to go off. In one hand he holds a grenade- designed to stick on contact and emit an electronic signal –and he puts the grenade launcher attachment to his rifle before seating the ammunition. Then he sights in, finding his target and a suitably nearby mech to play his decoy- the poor unwitting sod. Sandstorm lets the tension ease out of his body, crouches and waits for that moment when he knows he'll hit what he needs.

A small power generator explodes, throwing two Decepticons on their faceplates and a third cries, claiming he's been hit by shrapnel. Then the third squawks at the Autobot signature suddenly coming on his scanners- right next to him! He's on the comm, yelling about an infiltrator and suddenly the airwaves are alive with dozens trying to find out what's going on, trying to coordinate a counter-strike. No one notices a stray call emanating from their perimeter and being received behind Autobot lines.)

"This ridge here is a tactical advantage that we _have_ to control." Of course the ridge Springer pointed at was already deemed a must-have by the factions already on the surface. Unit markers swarmed over it, lights flickering rapidly on the map. "I'm going to need my heavy hitters here." He looked up at Roadbuster, then at Broadside. Both Wreckers lifted their heads slightly, gauging the terrain.

"From the looks of it," the combat vehicle said slowly, "we'll have to bring some heavy artillery with us."

"Whatever you think you'll need to get the job done."

"What do you say, Side?" Roadbuster asked with a hidden quirk of his lips. "Feel like lugging around some Mark-40's?"

"If we can't take the ridge, blow it out from under the 'cons?" Broadside tilted his head, as if considering the idea. "Destructive and effective. I have no problems with that."

_(There's not too many times either Roadbuster or Broadside are actively thankful for their size but as they take the huge artillery up the ridge, they're ever glad for it. They comm the officer on the field, letting him know what they have planned and they stay carefully out of sight of the Decepticons fighting. His hand flying with silent signals, Roadbuster sends the large triplechanger through the taller crags for added cover. The two split up, moving quickly and as low as they can before reaching their predetermined objective points._

Practiced hands set up the Mark-40's, stabilizing them on the rocky ground. Over their comm link, Roadbuster pings the other Wrecker, "Ready to go?"

"Ready, willing and able."

"Alright, then." Roadbuster racks the weapon, explosive round sliding into place and over the link he can hear Broadside doing the same. He swivels the turret, sighting in to hit behind Decepticon front lines. "Fire!"

The ridge erupts with two explosions throwing dirt and bodies, one after another. The Decepticons yelp and curse, trying to figure out what's happening and the Autobots don't waste a moment in pressing their advantage. As two more explosions rip through the line, Broadside can't help but ask:

"So, you think they've noticed us yet?")

"Topspin, Whirl, you'll be acting as support over on the left flank here. Your priority is to give aid in backing up Roadbuster and taking this ridge, but help out the rest of the detachment if you're able. Spin, if they need an extra body doing repairs-"

"I got one hand on my rifle, the other on a welder," the jumpstarter finished. "I got it in the bag, Chief."

_(He doesn't even bother to curse to himself as he sees the situation he's been put in. He pretty much already resigned himself to patching up bodies more than blasting holes into them judging from the way the Autobot forces are struggling on the map. With Roadbuster and Broadside drawing most of the Decepticons' attention it'll certainly help to ease Topspin's workload to an extent, but there's still plenty of damage waiting for his attention._

He slaps two mechs on the back, yelling to be heard over the explosions. "You and you! Start gathering the wounded and bring them over to the Triple-A! If you know anyone with medical or engineering skills, send them to me!"

They hesitate, ready to argue about getting bossed around by a mech they don't know. One of them, though, either recognizes who Topspin is or understands he's trying to patch up their buddies. He elbows the other before grabbing a cracked armguard and dragging him towards the closest wounded. Topspin ducks and runs towards the unmanned anti-aircraft artillery. He passes three others who he also slaps on the shoulders, "You three are with me!"

They must be rookies, he thinks to himself, because they follow without question. None of them have the bulk or armaments to be a front-liner. One he initially mistakes for a minibot but soon realizes is a femme. Good, he can use her processing power.

Topspin hurries to the large weapon, pushing out the body that sits in its seat. He doesn't feel anything as he does it- the poor sod is long dead and he doesn't have time to be gentle if he wants to keep everyone else alive. "You!" He points to the mech that twitches in a way that says this is his first actual battle. "On the artillery! You," he tosses his rifle to the femme who nearly buckles as the thing slams into her arms, "give him a hand!"

The rifle Topspin lugs around so effortlessly is heavily modified and while it normally won't do much good against those in the air, he had the foresight to attach a power converter for added range and switch the ammo to armor piercing. The femme's arms will go numb from the weight and recoil, but femmes are notoriously good shots, all of them able to calculate and track targets as easily as any sharp-shot and strategist worth their cranial casings. Topspin doesn't doubt she'll be able to pierce more slender wings and fuel tanks than the rest of them.

"And you," he turns to the last mech who has the looks of a lab-breed scientist, "are going to provide me cover! As the wounded come in, have them grouped by priority and let me know if an emergency comes up!" Topspin pulls out his medkit as the first two mechs come up with a body between them and three walking wounded following close behind. He knows the Decepticons will consider a group of wounded Autobots to be easy pickings and Topspin hopes the presence of the anti-aircraft weapon and a high powered rifle will keep them from bombing them. He comms Roadbuster, letting him know the jumpstarter won't be able to act as covering fire for some time. When the first body is laid out before him and his two helpers run off to get more, Topspin flexes his hands for a moment before diving in.)

"Whirl, your position here will be serving as dual-purpose. You'll be laying down suppressing fire where needed but I want you to be ready to take off in case Sandstorm needs backup. There's no guarantee Xantium will be able to bounce him once he goes that deep behind enemy lines but I don't want to leave him completely isolated."

Long arms crossed under Whirl's cockpit and he asked, "What about air defenses?"

A half-smirk was his answer. "You think the Decepticons can develop air defenses that can beat you?"

"Just thought I should ask." But Whirl waved a long hand dismissively. "Besides, you know how much I enjoy a challenge."

_(As much as Whirl knows it's important for him to be able to do it, he has never been a fan of ground fighting. He's meant for the air and open spaces but without additional support and with all the Decepticon jets flying overhead, it's far too dangerous for him to be up there on his own. So he's on the ground, directing fire and ordering the seriously wounded to Topspin._

A short, encrypted message from Sandstorm comes through to him and he bounces it along to Springer. "What's the verdict?" Whirl asks over the comm.

There's a slight pause as Springer goes over the message and plans the appropriate course of action. "We need some kind of distraction. We need to pull more Decepticons towards us and give Sandstorm the chance to find out what they've got going on."

Whirl knows what he means. He wants to know if Whirl is capable and willing to be that diversion. Not far away, the anti-aircraft artillery comes to life and a jet explodes in a ball of flaming metal and shrapnel. The helo looks around, calculating and itching to get back up in the air.

If the Triple-A can down more of those jets… but there's only one and what sounds like Topspin's modified rifle going off. Between those two and himself, though, they should be able to take care of the jets along the ridge. And if Whirl goes on strafing runs, pushing out a little further towards the Decepticons' projected command center and firing off his missiles at any structure that he finds…

"No worries, Chief." Whirl's expressionless face still manages to give off a dark, hungry grin. "I got it covered.")

"The line's looking to break right here. Twist, Scoop- what do you think about this valley just behind the Autobot forces?"

It was a small, narrow dip off to the side of the weak link, but they studied it thoughtfully. "It has potential," Scoop said slowly, "we'd have a better idea once we're actually on terrain, but it looks like we can set up some hasty-rigs along these openings here."

"If we can get the detachment to fall back this way," Twin Twist added, drawing lines with a finger, "and set up some remote detonators along here, we can force the Decepticons to flow in that way. That'll give us the high ground and bunch up their forces. Making them easy pickings."

_(Their hands are skillful and steady. They don't even have to discuss their plans, they've been working with each other for so long their thoughts have long since synced. They have to be able to work seamlessly together, even though they're not on the front as often as some of their other teammates, the work Twin Twist and Scoop do is something even more important. If they succeed in their plan here, it will give the Autobots a chance at outflanking the Decepticons. If they fail, the Decepticons will have a straight shot at the command center._

As Twin Twist finishes rigging and hiding the explosives to block the Decepticons' escape route, Scoop double checks their calculations to make sure it all comes off without a hitch. Or as close to without a hitch as reality will allow. They have contingency plans in case the original idea won't work the way it's supposed to, but they have faith in their abilities. They have to. If they ever doubt their skills they'll fail and the cost of their failure, all the lives being gambled in the success of their traps, is too much for them to do anything less than be flawless.

One final check and Twin Twist turned to the payloader. "You all set?"

"Yup." He gave thumbs up in return. "We're good to go."

"Springer," Twin Twist said into his comm, "we're hot.")

"And you?" Roadbuster asked. "What are you going to do?"

Springer pointed down to the map where the Autobots were being pushed back. "I'm going to link-up with whoever's in charge of this group here. While Scoop and Twist are preparing their traps, I'll make myself a presence to the Decepticons. When the rest of the Autobots fall back to the ridge, I'll act as bait and lead them down into the heart of the trap."

Springer would be too tempting a target for the Decepticon's frontliners. Especially if it seemed like he was retreating, the average grunt would be all-too willing to follow after him to try and finish him off. It was dangerous, but it would work.

He looked around at his team who stared back steadily. "Alright then, gentlebots. You have your assignments. Time to earn our rep."

_(Everything seems to stop on the battlefield the moment he steps on it, as he comes into view of everyone. It's almost like all weapons and shouts mute for that one brief nano-klik as he looks at the fighting before him. The Autobots can't help but grin now that their back-up arrives and most Decepticons find themselves shrinking back. They've heard stories of Wreckers, of their leader in particular, twisted and exaggerated with time and retellings and they can't help but be_ afraid.

_Springer just looks at them and his smile is dark and battle-hungry and he's itching for the fight. Time and sound starts up again as he throws himself into the charging line. But in that brief lull of sound, the cold, eager edge of his words was heard with almost frightening ease._

"Wreck 'n rule.")

* * *

Tiamat: Honestly, thank you for reviewing at all! It's not how many times you review, to me, it's that you take the time to do so, and I'm glad that my chapters moved you enough to warrant a review! Springer and Prowl being an anti-pairing? I like that X3

flamingmarsh: Yeah, it's sad that it's come to an end but, well, it had to sometime. I'll probably put that other story up here once I have most of it already writen out.

JML: You knew it had to come from somewhere! No better place than Impactor.

Kyra: I'm actually kind of sad that I killed him off, too. Impactor just doesn't have a good life expectancy anywhere XD

Dragowolf: Impactor was probably only second to Kup in how much Springer respected him, really.

Casus: Did anyone really expect me NOT to make Impactor important to Springer? XD He was always one of my favorite comic-only characters!

Naria: I hadn't planned exactly what happened to Impactor, but in a nutshell he was killed in the line of duty- most likely trying to fix some higher officer's fuck up. Instead of being labeled a hero that saved many lives, he was hit with a post-mortem dereliction of duty charge. Simply put, Springer didn't take that too gracefully and after some harsh words (and probably the occasional fist) was relieved of his rank and kicked out of the military.

Silveriss: I'm flattered- I really am. I like finding little tells in official sources and expanding on them but to hear that others enjoy it so much... well, it really warms my heart to know that. I'm glad your transition back to work has been a fairly smooth one and I hope it continues to be so until your filing is done!

Kyarorin: Hope life hasn't been yanking too hard recently (puts ice on ears).

To everyone: Again, thank you so much for your support. It may sound contrite and cliche, but I honestly wouldn't have continued this for even half as long if it weren't for you and your ideas. All the interest and reviews and spin-offs from these series, it's been one of my more humbling expereinces to know how much people have enjoyed and looked forward to each chapter. I can't thank you enough for sticking it out for so long but, nonetheless, thank you.


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